


Death Won't Keep Me From Loving You

by TailorNorata



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A relationship both parties have to keep working on, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Stiles, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Feelings, Ghost Stiles, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Past Neglect, Rebirth, Reconnecting with family, Resurrection, Revenge, The Sheriff wasn't always a good father, Threats of Violence, but issue aware handling of the situation, i am bad at tagging, lots of them - Freeform, mention of the possibility to have an open relationship, non-consensual possession of a body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TailorNorata/pseuds/TailorNorata
Summary: Peter thought he had a good handle on keeping his feelings to himself. There was no need for Stiles to know they were supposed to be soulmates. Only life, and somtimes death don't care for anybody's plans and maybe they like to have some fun interpreting fate, maybe they just love seeing Peter suffer but they deal him an unexpected curveball.





	Death Won't Keep Me From Loving You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnazzyJazzyH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnazzyJazzyH/gifts).



Peter didn’t hide his smile when his heart started beating fast even before he saw Stiles sitting at the dinner table in Derek’s loft, reading books, taking notes and absentmindedly chewing on a highlighter.

It had been too long since last he had seen the boy - now actually a young man.

Before Peter could move away from the door he had just opened Stiles grinned without looking up and chuckled deeper in his throat than what Peter had been used from him.

“Peter Hale, still hanging around good ol’ Beacon Hills.”

The werewolf could sense something had fundamentally changed, but it didn’t feel bad.

There was a certain charge he could sense in the air, like on another plane of existence it was crackling with energy.

He let his neck crack and strolled towards the desk.

“Stiles Stilinski, still delving among my personal library.”

That brought the younger man to finally look up and stare at him.

God knew Peter had missed those smart, prying eyes, always on the lookout for the catch he knew Peter always had in store.

He had missed Stiles’ company, missed their banter, but also just the magnificent sight and intoxicating scent alone.

Maybe he had forgotten how intense it was, maybe it had become more tantalizing with the three years they hadn’t seen each other but that particular scent of wild, barely containable energy and Stiles-specific pheromones was more and more occupying his mind. Besides that he also noticed how much more dominant the scent of ozone, metal, herbs and animal blood had become on Stiles’ skin.

Most werewolves and other supernatural creatures by now probably instinctively acted wary and careful about someone smelling of that much power and magic.

At least those not familiar with Stiles’ personality.

“If all of those are your books, why keep them at Derek’s place?”

Peter shrugged and tried to appear disinterested.

“My apartment doesn’t have enough walls for all of them. And I know Scott and his puppies need them often enough. It’d be annoying if they rang my doorbell for every new monster of the week.”

There was a moment where Stiles seemed to search for more than that answer, but then he nodded.

“Fair enough.”

 

Peter was conflicted.

He wanted to know all the things he had missed about Stiles life away.

But he also knew getting too close was a dangerous thing, because he already was predestined to be attracted to Stiles, and every step closer was one it’d hurt to make back again.

Of course, he could just tell Stiles.

The times he had thought about just getting it off his chest, just saying it to get it out of his mind, maybe even move on after the inevitable rejection…

He couldn’t though.

He might be a monster in many people’s eyes, but he would never actually have burdened a teenager with that kind of knowledge. 

And now?

Now Stiles lived in Virginia, probably had a significant other and seemed to have moved on from most of his highschool years.

So he didn’t ask or say anything and instead just shrugged and started searching for the book he had come to look into himself.

 

\---

 

Stiles came to Beacon Hills more often now and stayed sometimes a few weeks at a time before traveling back to Virginia. Over time Peter had gathered enough details to know the guy had rattled some quite important FBI people with his powers.

There had apparently already been a division to deal with supernatural things, because of course there was, but none as educated or engaged in the supernatural as Stiles was.

The man had quickly risen to the top of said dedicated group and had apparently emphasized on creating a standard for what agents of their division needed to learn before working in the field. He had actually asked Peter to travel with him to Quantico and give a lecture on werewolf politics, maybe give some of the braver ones a shot at training with an actual, skilled werewolf how to fight without the intent to kill.

Argent already had given lectures on Hunters - the Good, the Bad, the Despicable…

 

So far Peter had not decided if he wanted to go.

He was proud of Stiles and actually felt like the Spark was doing a good job at creating a group working with supernaturals instead of just against them.

But when you looked at the spectrum of good, likeable supernatural creatures - like for example a fluffy, cute, innocent Jackalope - all the way to the bad, evil supernatural creatures - like a human eating wendigo - Peter didn’t exactly fall on the desired side of said spectrum.

He just wasn’t sure getting onto the radar of a bunch of supernaturally aware law enforcement was the smartest thing to do, no matter how much he loved showing off in general and particularly in front of Stiles.

 

What he really couldn’t resist though was spending time with Stiles now and then.

He tried to keep it as unsuspicious and rare as possible, but it felt just too good to be close to his soulmate.

Yes, he knew he was basically setting himself up for misery and eventual heartbreak, but when it came to staying away from the man Peter had the impulse control of a toddler seeking his next sugar high.

 

They had build on their original connection through witty banter and had become something surprisingly close to friends.

Since Scott who had become a nurse like his mother, Isaac who worked at a coffee shop and took online courses, Allison who had become a professional archer and helped her father reform the Argent’s group of hunters were the only ones - except Derek - to still live in Beacon Hills, and were all busy a lot of the time, most non-immediate issues were solved by Peter, Stiles and Derek.

Also most pack meetings consisted of them and occasionally one or two of the others. And when they had free time Stiles sometimes just showed up at Peter’s place with coffee and breakfast and occupied his living room to study in his books or now and then just to hang around and lazily chat.

 

It was relaxed, easy going and so so dangerous.

Stiles scent was already everywhere in his flat.

The only room Stiles had never been in was the bedroom and that had been something Peter had made sure was a line he wouldn’t cross.

Because having his actual intimate resting place, the center of his ‘den’ smell like Stiles, like his soulmate was more than even he could take.

Already he caught himself feeling heartache and longing every morning he woke up and could sense their gently mingled scents all over his place.

He caught himself avoiding washing the couch covers before he knew Stiles was back in town for a few weeks again.

He caught himself purposefully buying cereal, snacks and drinks he knew his mate liked.

He caught himself staring at his phone, hoping for some kind of message from Stiles, whenever he traveled back to Quantico - even though all they ever texted each other about was research stuff and the occasional witty tease and comeback.

He even had thought about going to therapy to get rid of some of the pent up feelings, but what use would that have if his issue at it’s core was supernatural.

Yes, by now - adult, powerful, smart and so so clever - Stiles was a man Peter could and had deeply fallen for, but he would never have considered that if his wolf hadn’t told him Stiles was his destined mate from the moment they met for the first time. Peter wasn’t generally speaking one to go for partners that much younger.

He actually had felt like the universe was taking him for a ride when it first had presented that teenage boy to him as the person supposed to be the one capable of completing him.

By now he understood why, but it had taken him a while to come around to the idea.

He sometimes wishes he hadn’t.

 

____________________________________

 

Stiles couldn’t believe a fucking car accident was how he died.

Of all the things he could have protected himself against, of all the dangerous creatures he could have outsmarted, could have magically bested, none had come even close. But 14 tons of truck and cargo sliding towards him on an icy road seemed to be a match even for a powerful Spark like him.

 

When he had put the preemptive measures in place which would make it possible for him to rise from the dead should he ever come into this unfortunate situation he had thought he’d most likely spend the time between his death and resurrection in some kind of limbo between worlds or something.

 

Instead he had become a ghost. Which was better than what he had feared - hell had been a risk he had very consciously decided to take - but also really really boring.

While he had mostly recovered from the trauma of being crushed by the weight of tons of frozen meat - which the truck had been transporting - and had started to think more clearly again, he still had no clue how to move more than a few feet away from his body.

Without being able to walk away from his corpse he had been witness to his recovery from the remains of his car, the autopsy, parts of the swift investigation concluding this had been an unfortunate accident, awkward conversations his colleagues had had when ‘visiting’ his body in the morgue, being burned to ashes and eventually his Dad and Scott picking him up to bring him home. 

Being buried in the ground of his motherland - which conservatively meant at least California but preferably Beacon Hills - was one of the requirements for his spell to work. So even if he might have been able to be buried in Arlington he had already decided when he had been alive to issue the importance of a quiet, small burial in his hometown cemetery. Quiet, because if he wanted to come back it was better as few people as possible knew he had died in the first place.

 

\---

 

The drive home had been awfully awkward.

Neither Scott nor his Dad said much while Stiles was sitting in the back seat, next to his urn. What they said was a mixture of anger, denial and acceptance. Like they were working through their grief by reminding each other it had been inevitable to one day have to deal with Stiles’ death due to recklessness.

Like it hadn’t been Stiles fucking keeping them alive for this long.

Like he wasn’t the one who was single handedly reforming the way humans and supernatural interacted so they all could have an easier life with less hiding and less unlawful violence.

He half hoped everything would go to shit while he was out of order.

But of course he didn’t really, partly because it’d mean he’d have to clean all the mess up himself and partly because he knew they didn’t really mean all that. They were grieving, they were hurt. And anger at the person who left them was a very common thing to experience.

Still, he was hurt too and when the radio started acting up and eventually died he suspected he might have caused that subconsciously through negative emotions.

Occasional frustration at the people grieving when you were the one who died was probably a common thing as well, just less well documented.

 

\---

 

The funeral itself was nice - sweet and obviously planned with him in mind.

And most people he would have wanted to be there were. Of course Scott, Allison, Isaac, Derek, Melissa and his Dad were there.

But also Lydia, Malia, Ethan and Jackson had all flown in, Danny had managed to free himself from his busy schedule, Boyd and Erica had come back from their holiday, their kids in tow and even Cora had emerged from the depth of South America’s wildlife. Others were there as well. Some former classmates, most of the deputies such as Parrish, the younger pack members such as Liam, Mason and Corey also Chris Argent, Stiles’ colleagues from the FBI and his superior and patron to his ambitious plans with the supernatural division, the Executive Assistant Director Joseph G. Dhorson - as always on his phone, but Stiles supposed it was the thought that counts.

Even Theo was there, in the back and standing separate from everyone else, but he had come, which surprised Stiles a little bit.

Deaton wasn’t there, but the last time they had seen each other Stiles hadn’t been very kind with him so it wasn’t really a surprise.

Kira wasn’t there but no one had seen her ever since she had gone with the Skinwalkers so he’d have been quite surprised if in fact she had shown up.

The one person though Stiles really missed here, the one person he felt should have been there and inexplicably wasn’t was Peter.

Stiles had to admit it hurt.

He had started to think of Peter as a friend.

Sometimes he even had considered they might be able to become more than that.

Yes, the wolf wasn’t the nicest of all people, certainly not morally ‘good’ but that wasn’t what Stiles was either.

They always had had a certain link, an understanding for each other’s way of thinking.

Their minds blended effortlessly more often than not.

All that being said, the amount of pain he felt, the disappointment at looking for Peter in the rows and not finding him was maybe the biggest of all surprises. And definitely the most hurtful.

 

The funeral ended, his urn was lowered in the ground, flowers were thrown in with his remains, some people mumbled personal words of farewell and then everybody left.

A few hours later the grave was filled with earth, the last thing remaining was a coronal of white flowers and his gravestone with the words “Beloved Son and True Friend” carved underneath his name and the span of his life.

Well, this looked like literal months of doing little more than watching the grass grow.

He really hoped this wouldn’t drive him mental.

 

\---

 

Day one, Scott had shown up, in scrubs - probably on a break - to check on his grave, he had said nothing and instead quietly lit a cigarette.

Stiles had hated the fact his friend started smoking.

He understood it, with all the stress and pressure Scott probably felt every day he should be glad it wasn’t anything stronger or more dangerous, but he still hated it.

Even more so because Scott was technically still asthmatic. He relied too much on his healing powers with this habit.

 

Day two, a guy walked his dog over the cemetery, because why go to a park, right?

This helped Stiles figure out animals could sense him. Because when the dog tried to mark his headstone by urinating on it he hissed at the cur with intensity and it whinced, put it’s tail between it’s legs and ran back to it’s owner.

Good choice doggy.

 

Day three, nothing happened all day.

 

Day four, two rabbits fucked, right in front of his eyes.

 

Day five, the guy with his dog came back but this time the dog kept a safe distance.

 

Day six, his father showed up, knelt and broke down crying in front of the two gravestones representing the earthly remains of his whole family.

Watching this was hard.

Watching his father then pull out a flask, apologizing to both of them and take a few big gulps was infinitely worse.

Stiles wished he could stop existing, he wished he could rest his consciousness and at least flee this torment for a few hours.

He really wished he’d had the time to tell his dad what he had done, how he had made sure he’d come back before all this happened.

Unfortunately he hadn’t done that.

He had thought he’d have more time at hand.

He had thought the possibility of his death wasn’t a pressing issue.

It hadn’t even occurred to him what a risk he had accepted by delaying that conversation. Now this was on him.

All he could do was hope his father didn’t destroy himself until April when the Egg Moon was going to bring him back from the dead.

 

Day seven, Stiles was still worried about his father but also bored so he started to test out a few things.

He was able to move around in a radius of about twenty-ish feet of his remains, that included up in the air and down in the ground - if he didn’t try to force it.

In general, forcing something to work didn’t help it working.

He was able to touch humanly immovable or hard to move things like the headstone and the ground effortlessly most of the time, unless he tried to concentrate on it, then it became immediately impossible. Touching movable objects was more difficult, but he was practicing with the fading flowers of the coronal and started to get the hang of it.

The hardest, maybe even impossible was touching living things.

He only had bugs and sometimes some wildlife from the forest nearby to try, but so far he hadn’t managed anything more than move a few hairs on a squirrel's back.

And hair was technically dead so it was quite possible that didn’t even count.

 

Day eight, Scott was back again, this time he sat down in front of Stiles’ grave, face hidden in his own hands and stayed there, quietly, for a while. Stiles used that time to challenge himself and tried to pull the pack of cigarettes out of his friend’s jacket.

Moving the whole package was still too difficult, but he realized he was able to pull out one cigarette after the other. Carefully he carried them - they felt heavy like bricks - behind his stone to hide them from Scott’s view if he should look up.

Eventually the pack was empty, eight cigarettes were lying behind Stiles’ grave and Scott was still sitting there.

After a while Stiles started to question his action.

Had it really been wise to take Scott’s smokes? What if Scott realized it was a ghost and thought Stiles needed exorcising?

He couldn’t rely on Scott to not do that.

Before he could really freak out about it though Scott sighed heavily and finally looked up.

“Hey Stiles.”

There was a small pause with a small smile before he continued. 

“Don’t scoff, I know you aren’t really here.”

Stiles scoffed “ _ Boy if you knew.” _

_ “ _ Ally suggested I come here and talk to you anyway. It’s supposed to help me deal with everything. I don’t know...part of me feels like this is stupid. But how else could I talk to you?”

Stiles shrugged  _ “Ouija board sounds promising.” _

“So...I miss you. I know you’d probably point out how little time we’ve spent the last few years…how it’s ironic people tend to miss something or someone only once it’s out of their reach...”

Stiles crossed his arms “ _ Well, maybe, but I know you thought you’d have time to rekindle when life calmed down. Only it never did.” _

“I just always thought we’d have time to get back to how things were when the pack’s survival was secured and I found more time to spent with friends.”

Right...pack security, one of the topics they had never agreed on. The pack would never be secure as long as Scott insisted on letting their enemies go basically unpunished.

Actions needed to lead to consequences.

That might be an uncomfortable truth for Scott, but it really wasn’t a difficult one.

“At first, when I heard you were dead I couldn’t really grasp that. Like, it sounded so fake, like something some kind of supernatural thing might put into an illusion to fuck with my mind…”

Stiles rolled his eyes  _ “If it was an illusion made to fuck with your mind it’d have been you hurting and killing others. And I might have been in that illusion, but I’m pretty sure Allison, Isaac and your Mom would have come before me…” _

“When I started to wrap my head around it I was angry. I actually yelled at Ally because she had known you were on your way back to Virginia and I didn’t...like that somehow could’ve change anything. I hurt her with that, I didn’t want to, but I did. And she is grieving too...I was so unfair to her…”

Stiles didn’t say anything to this. Grief took difficult forms and there certainly was enough pain to go around. When Scott started sobbing Stiles sighed and sat down on the ground in front of his friend.

He reached out his hand, knowing he couldn’t touch and just hoped Scott might still feel it somehow. Or maybe the animal in Scott might sense him…

Only if any werewolf took real effort to ignore his animalistic instincts it was this idiot Alpha.

For a while there was nothing except the silent, repressed sobs of a grown man at the grave of his best friend and brother.

Stiles hoped they would be able to find back to their former friendship once he came back to the living.

Scott seemed to sober up, at least he sounded like it.

When he spoke again his voice was still a bit wavery but calmer.

“I also might have said some not so nice things about you...I didn’t mean them, I was just so so fucking angry...I’m sorry...not even just for that to be honest. I’m just sorry.

Ever since the bite...you kept me alive, you kept me sane...you helped me to stay myself while figuring all this shit out. I know I messed up a lot and you were always there to help me out of it.

I know believing Theo over you was probably one of the most stupid things I ever did…”

Oh here they were going, now Scott was willing to talk about that!

_ “He said you were the one part he had no use for in his pack. I still can’t wrap my head around how the fuck you ever trusted him, he was so fucking suspicious. You could have at least properly asked me to explain what happened...I was so terrified you found out, I saw you slipping away from me...this really wasn’t on me Scott. You are right. Believing Theo on anything was stupid. _

_ But this part...that shouldn’t have happened. At some point-” _

Since Scott couldn’t actually hear anything Stiles was saying he just started to talk again and Stiles took a deep breath.

Just when he decided to sit down again he realized he had started floating, hovering over Scott while talking. So apparently anger made it difficult for him to stay on ground level.

“He has asked to be allowed in the pack by the way...he has been a good friend and mentor to Liam the last few years...they seem to have become mates of sorts...I’m not sure I understand their relationship. They punch each other more often than they kiss…”

Stiles rolls his eyes “ _ What’s new.” _

“Do you think I should give Theo another chance?”

_ “Yes, almost everyone who makes an obvious effort to better himself deserves a second chance. If they blow that one though they should be dead. Or at least dead to you. Preferably dead though.” _

Scott sighed.

“I’m talking to a stone with your name on and a pot of ashes with your DNA underneath...doesn’t really make sense to ask for advice that can’t be given…”

Stiles didn’t say anything to that.

It wasn’t like anything he said would reach Scott.

In that context nothing much had changed really.

Scott pushed himself up from where he had been sitting and fished for his cigarettes only to realize they were empty.

“What the-” he exclaimed and looked for holes in the packaging while mumbling.

“I haven’t smoked a whole pack have I…? What is this? It’s really empty…”

Stiles was sitting there nervous.

Part of him hoped Scott would just shrug it off and another part of him hoped Scott would put one and one together for once in his life.

In the end Scott just sighed frustrated, pulled out his wallet to see if he had enough money on him and headed for the exit.

_ “You really aren’t getting any smarter dude…” _

 

Day nine, nothing happened.

Well ok like he saw a mouse being killed by a cat. The cat then ate parts of the mouse but not all of it, efficiently slicing only the pieces it wanted out of the rodents body. The rest of it was carried away by ants in only a few hours.

It was fascinating and at the same time utterly boring.

Like, if you would have watched a sped up version of it it’d have been a cool thing to watch, but this way it was mainly tedious.

 

Day ten, nothing happened until the evening when a group of teenagers came to party on the cemetery. They were loud and drunk and two of them actually walked off to have sex in the older part of the cemetery.

He knew, because for him everything was clearly visible.

If they had been close enough he’d have contemplated scaring them with his improving abilities to move smaller objects, but they weren’t.

 

Day eleven.

Peter showed up.

Stiles spotted him when he was at the beginning of the row in which Stiles’s and his mother’s graves were.

He could see Peter walk along the stones, looking at the names.

Peter probably didn’t ask where exactly Stiles’ grave was.

Eventually the werewolf came to the right spot and blinked slightly irritated.

“No wonder you wanted to be called ‘Stiles’.”

Stiles didn’t know what to think about this, what to expect.

What he didn’t expect was the man’s intense expression of determination and fury as his eyes darkened and he seemed to remind himself what this grave meant.

He was really confused until the werewolf started talking.

“Sorry it took me so long to come here.”

He paused and frowned.

“I keep thinking I can properly apologize once you come back. I guess when you come back yourself it’s more difficult to accept death’s finality for others. But also, if anybody might come back it’s you. A part of me is convinced you will. You weren’t one to waste a lesson. You probably looked for ways to come back and ways to keep people from coming back the night you found out I did…

But there are so many possible reasons you might not have done that...maybe you hadn’t found a way that suited you...maybe you thought you still had time...god...I thought you still had time...we still had time to-”

He shook his head and Stiles wished he wouldn’t have stopped that sentence.

But he did, and when he spoke again he changed the topic.

“As soon as I knew you were dead I went to investigate the accident. Well, ‘accident’...the FBI had no idea it might be important so they didn’t make the connection but there was a hex under your seat. A seriously strong one.”

He rubbed his right hand and only then Stiles realized it looked dark and wrong, like it had been burned and then washed in acid.

_ “Holy shit, the hex did that? What the-” _

Peter’s eyes narrowed and Stiles went silent to watch the man.

Had he sensed him?

If someone besides Lydia could sense him it was probably Peter.

A few moments passed and Peter’s tension loosened a bit.

Only then Stiles realized it might have been smarter to keep talking but it was too late. And also, did he want Peter to know he was there?

Was he able to trust him that far?

If anyone could figure out Stiles’ resurrection spell it was Peter.

And if he figured it out he was able to stop it.

Stiles wasn’t sure he was ready to trust the werewolf with that topic.

“A hex means some kind of magic user or someone with enough money or power to get a hex from a powerful magic user wanted you dead.”

There was that determination and fury.

“I’m going to find and kill them, slowly and painfully.”

Stiles just stared at the man for a few moments.

Peter really was the one to avenge him?

_ “I’m surprised you care so much Zombiewolf…” _

He was even more surprised when Peter followed through in traditional werewolf fashion, extended a claw and carved a spiral next to Stiles’ name.

This just got really serious.

 

Without saying anything else the werewolf stood up and started to walk away from the grave.

Stiles watched him walk away almost to the exit and suddenly he got pulled off the headstone he had been sitting on and started to float away from his grave with every other step the man took.

_ “For fuck sake!” _

He cursed on impulse and then started to float after Peter at his own will, catching up to him easily.

_ “So I guess that revenge thing bound me to you, or something like that.” _

At least this was going to be more interesting than sitting around in a graveyard.

 

___________________________

 

Peter had been back from his trip to Virginia for about a week when someone rang at his door.

He had been nose deep in a book about hex ingredients to find out more about what this particular hex had required. His hope was some of the things would be hard to come by and he might be able to trace the purchase back to the right person.

For a moment he thought about not answering mostly because there had been strange noises, light flickering and waves of cold air the whole last week and he suspected he might be haunted. This might just be another prank the spirit was pulling - deliberately or not. On the other side, since Stiles was dead this likely wasn’t a social call. He stood up to check who it was.

Looking at the monitor next to his door he recognized his nephew and groaned but buzzed him in.

 

\---

 

Peter had offered tea, coffee and water, Derek had refused it all and instead looked around the in research drowning living room.

“What are you doing?”

“Not answering stupid questions, why are you here?”

Derek frowned and gave Peter the stoic stare he used whenever he wanted to seem intimidating. 

It wasn’t very effective with a person who knew what that stare looked like on a sulking toddler.

Eventually Derek gave up and spoke.

“Someone carved a spiral in Stiles’ headstone.”

Peter made sure he didn’t show any emotion and almost instinctively controlled his heartbeat.

“So?”

Derek rolled his eyes and seemed like he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose and it took everything out of him to not do that.

“So, did you do it?” he sounded strained.

Peter raised one eyebrow.

“Why would I?”

Derek actually pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Seriously, I don’t know. You kinda always treated him differently and lately you started to hang out more, he was basically more often at your place than mine and since neither Scott nor I did it you are a likely suspect…did you do it?”

Peter knew it was stupid, but he was happy to know Stiles had voluntarily spent that much of his time in Beacon Hills in his company.

The memory also threw him back into painful mourning over the loss of all that.

And he decided not to hide it.

Really, why should he.

Stiles was gone, after his revenge Peter had no reason to stay in this town, county or state.

And if Derek, Scott or someone else tried to keep him from getting his revenge they had another thing coming.

He stared his nephew in the eyes and let his pain and fury show.

“Yes, I did.”

Derek was clearly confused and furrowed his brows.

When he asked his question it wasn’t angrily, only clueless.

“Why?”

A part of him wanted to snap at Derek for basically repeating his own question, but he knew that wasn’t what Derek had meant.

Spending more time together wasn’t a reason to declare a vendetta.

He argued with himself if he wanted to reveal what he had kept to himself for so long while sternly staring past Derek into nothing.

There was this energy raging inside him, seeking release, seeking soothing while it burned every part of him it could reach.

It felt like the only point at which he’d find peace was in death. Either his own or death of those responsible.

He closed his eyes, trying to fight down the turmoil to a point where he could decide what to say.

Eventually he decided to go with the truth.

If they would part here, or at the latest in a few weeks, he might as well be honest about how serious this was to him.

“I never told Stiles this, because it’d just have been another bit of baggage he’d have to deal with. He is…” Peter swallowed and took a deep breath.

“Stiles was my soulmate.”

Derek took a moment to process that information and then his eyes went wide.

“That...actually makes sense.”

 

______________________

 

Derek might have looked perplexed, but Stiles felt like he got hit by an emotional truck almost as violently as the actual truck that had hit him.

He had to agree with the younger Hale, it made sense, it explained quite a few things but boy did it also put things in perspective.

He tried to stay calm, but it was a lot harder to practice impulse control when there was no mind-to-body-delay in thought and action. So while he kept himself from cursing and yelling obscenities over the revelation he felt incapable of stopping the lights from flickering and the air getting colder.

He had found out he could do that and had practiced controlling it, but it wasn’t easy. While negative or overwhelming emotions didn’t help with controlled actions it did amplify any and all more destructive and interruptive abilities.

Derek looked up at the modern lamp and both men got goosebumps.

“Something wrong with your flat Peter?”

Peter frowned and looked at the lamp as well.

“Yeah...something. But I can deal with that. Now, I answered your question and I don’t care about any offers to help or any attempts to stop me from getting my revenge so would you kindly leave?”

His voice was honey sweet and tense while he spoke, slowly motioning the other werewolf to leave.

Derek furrowed his brows again.

“I still don’t fully get why, it was an accident…”

Peter now basically shoved Derek to the door.

“It was, but an accident caused by magic. And if you and Scott were able to actually pay attention to anything outside your little bubble you would have found that out yourself. As powerful as Stiles was it was a logical conclusion to at least make sure it actually was an accident and not someone feeling threatened by him.”

He successfully shoved Derek over the threshold of his door and stood immovably in the frame to make clear coming back inside wasn’t an option.

“Now go back to your Alpha and tell him he better stay out of my way.”

He closed the door and walked a few steps away for Derek to hear him before listening to find out if the guy was leaving.

When he seemed convinced he looked at the lights again which were still flicking, but less aggressively.

Stiles was still overwhelmed, but at least if he lost control now it was only Peter who would witness it.

He really didn’t want anyone prone to exorcising first and asking questions later to witness him emotionally going off with powers he didn’t fully know nor understand.

Peter cleared his throat “Okay, you probably followed me from the cemetery and are now haunting me. I really hoped you would bugger off on your own, but I’ll have you know I don’t have time to deal with some Poltergeist right now, I am somewhat busy.”

 

WHAT?!!

Okay, okay, okay, OKAY...DON’T get upset, he doesn’t know it’s YOU, he just knows it’s a ghost...this is not good, this is not good, this is NOT GOOD…

The lights started to flicker more aggressively again and it got cold enough to see Peter’s breath.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

There was some kind of mixture of rage and grief boiling in him and he realized it wasn’t totally natural in it’s intensity but he was powerless against it.

“Hey, this is the opposite of a productive reaction, do you really want me to exorcise you?”

 

______________________________

 

_ “NO! _ ”

The noise was clearly supernatural, it rattled the entire room and Peter protected his ears with his hands instinctively.

“What the-”

This hadn’t been just a noise, it had been an emotion, a really strong one.

And it wasn’t the end of it.

The tab started running in the kitchen and the bathroom, the lights went crazy and it got colder by the minute while there was a rumbling like electricity colliding and creating fragments of words.

_ “...IDN’T ASK...R THI...WHY...ID..U..O..THIS!!??! FUCK YOU! ...UP..D...OLF!! YOU…’ER TO..D...E! W...Y? WHY? WHY? _ **_WHY!!?!?!??_ ** _ ASSHOLE!!!” _

 

He could hear the noise strongly despite trying to protect his ears, as if it was transmitted over his bones right into his ear. The last part was a lot clearer than the rest, but this didn’t make any sense.

When it stopped the lights were still flickering and the tap didn’t stop running, neither did the temperature get warmer. So apparently he wasn’t off the hook.

Carefully he lowered his hands from his ears and tried to think.

This wasn’t just any kind of ghost, not even just any kind of poltergeist.

This felt more powerful. Maybe it wasn’t even a ghost. Could this be some kind of curse he activated by going after the person who created the hex?

 

He held up his hands and tried to appeal to whatever entity was haunting him.

“Apologies. Let me look something up ok?”

Amazingly the tabs stopped, nothing else changed though - maybe it got a few degrees warmer again.

He moved to the first book he had in mind and skimmed the pages until he found the several kinds of ghosts it described.

No, not a common ghost, not a Mourning Ghost, not a Poltergeist, not a Krasue, it also didn’t fit the description of a lower jinn.

This wasn’t really helping.

He looked at three other books  and was headed for the next before the tabs started running again and there was a rumble that sounded like pure, intensified frustration.   
  


____________________________________

 

Stiles really tried to calm himself, tried to stop his emotions but they felt so amplified.

He was able to simmer down enough to just hang there, internalizing those conflicting feelings until Peter reached for the fifth book and he couldn’t handle it anymore. He was leaking with anger, confusion, realisation, frustration, and somewhere also excitement and when the tabs started running again he groaned in frustration.

Peter who apparently heard that actually stopped in his tracks and looked warily.

Stiles wanted to be able to simply leave for a while but where Peter was he had to be. Most of the time that was okay, right now it sucked!

 

The werewolves tense shoulders relaxed a little and he sighed.

“Let’s try this another way.”

_ “Oh! You got a solution wolfy? Oh am I curious! What is it? Exorcism or Communication? I know you have a fucking Ouija-Board. Please tell me you are going to fucking finally USE IT!!!” _

Peter went into his bedroom and came back with his Board and the Planchette.

“This is an Oujia-Board in case you don’t know them. If possible please use it to communicate with me about what you want. The wood of the planchette is meant to increase it’s connectivity to spiritual beings, so it should be easier to use than most items.”

_ “Yeah I know, I made the fucking thing, now put it down already!” _

Peter did put it down but Stiles was under no illusion the wolf might have heard him.

Stiles touched the planchette, fought the urge to throw it at Peter and instead started sliding it over the board.

 

___________________________________

  
  


Peter watched curiously and a bit relieved as the planchette actually started moving on it’s own.

He wrote down the letters on his phone to keep track of what was communicated.

“H-I”

Deliberate pause which Peter took as a space between words.

“Z-O-M-B-I-E-W-O-L-F”

Peter didn’t need any time to figure that one out.

“Stiles?” he murmured in disbelief and idiotically stared up from the board where he assume Stiles’ ghost might be sitting.

The planchette rushed to “Yes”.

“Proof it.”

Peter needed proof. He felt numb. And stupidly his biggest worry was the fact Stiles might have heard him admit to them being soulmates.

The planchette was moved again.

“F”

Pause.

“U”

He also didn’t need any time to understand what that meant.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to grin or frown so he just raised an eyebrow and answered flatly.

“Well fuck you too. You would have asked for the same.”

“F-A-I-R”

Pause.

“E-N-O-U-G-H.”

This time Peter smiled slightly.

Then he remembered what it meant if this was really Stiles and he sighed.

“I’d still like some actual proof.”

There was nothing for a while.

In the silence Peter realized the tabs had stopped running, the temperature was almost on a comfortable level again and even the lights had stopped flickering.

So apparently giving the spirit something else to do was the solution to this issue - for now. He didn’t know enough about the creature - he refused to think of it as Stiles until he had the proof he needed - to be sure it’d be a permanently working solution.

it took almost three minutes, which felt like hours to Peter’s racing mind before the planchette moved again.

“Y-O-U”

Pause.

“O-F-F-E-R-E-D”

Pause.

“M-E”

Pause.

“B-I-T-E”

 

Peter shook his head.

“Yeah but he might have told that to someone.”

The planchette flew right at Peter’s face and the lights started again.

Peter caught it just a millimeter away from his eye and huffed in surprise.

“Rude” he mumbled while placing the little wooden heart back on the board.

Immediately it was zapping over the board and Peter had difficulties keeping up.

“N-O-T-D-O-N-E-Y-E-T-A-S-S-H-O-L-E”

It was still fairly easy to decipher.

“I’ll mentally add a frowny face to that.”

This time the planchette hit his forehead before he was able to catch it because he had been looking down at his phone.

When he breathed out the air was getting colder again.

“All right, I apologize. please continue.”

He put the planchette back and it rushed over the board with angry emphasize.

“I”

“L-I-E-D”

“W-H-E-N”

“S-A-I-D”

“D-N-T”

“W-A-N-N-A”

“B”

“L-I-K-E”

“U”

 

Peter’s eyebrows rose in surprise again. That was the first time Stiles had admitted that, he thought. Immediately after he realized he had just decided this actually was Stiles. Although the boy back then would have never admitted he had been caught in such a lie.

 

“So you actually did want to be a werewolf?”

The planchette moved to “No.”

Huh.

“What then do you mean?”

 

“W-A-N-T-E-D”

“B”

“L-I-K-E”

“U”

 

What?

“A crazy murderous monster?”

It still was difficult to conciliate his past-coma self with any sane version of himself. After all the time it was still the period he regretted most in his life - lives.

They weren’t even something he could ask for forgiveness for.

All he could do was accept they happened, accept the things that had come from it, the way people saw him now and try to move on.

At least people didn’t bother him unless they really needed him.

Well, Stiles had been the exception.

And granted, Malia did show up at his doorstep once in a while to check in with him and he actually appreciated that.

She had a lot from him, but she was an arguably better person than he’d ever be.

 

After another, shorter, pause the planchette pointed at “No” and then moved again.

“P-O-W-E-R-F-U-L”

“S-M-A-R-T”

“C-O-N-F-I-D-E-N-T”

“S-T-R-O-N-G”

There was a longer pause before the last word was spelled.

“A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-V-E”

Peter snorted at that.

“Wow, first time a ghost is hitting on me.”

The planchette flew into his direction again but this time he caught it easily.

“Could you stop throwing that at me. It’s getting old fast.”

The next thing that came flying was the entire board and Peter decided at that point this needed to stop.

Now that he knew who the ghost was he had an idea what he could do to ground it.

Most people didn’t look into ways to handle ghosts once they knew how to do an exorcism, but Peter knew a supernatural creature you could communicate with was most likely a supernatural creature you could work with - to some extent.

Ghosts - since they had been people once - tended to be able to be quite reasonable, although, as Stiles was demonstrating pretty well, they usually were emotionally unstable and prone to uncontrolled outbursts.

Only, the most a common ghost was able to do was rattle a window, maybe flick a light, if they were really old and powerful chill the air, or make a few noises. Stiles was a tiny little bit more powerful and thus more disruptive. Which meant, if he kept on like that it’d turn into destructive soon.

The charm he was considering wasn’t even difficult - easy enough for a werewolf like him to use on his own - except for one part.

He had to say Stiles’ full name, with the right pronunciation.

Luckily he had actually googled it and the little bit of Polish he knew helped, but it was still not easy.

Carefully watching the spot where he suspected Stiles as to not be hit by any more flying objects Peter moved to a drawer by the windows, blindly searching for the right kind of gem.

He smiled when his fingers closed around the natural surface of a piece of pure quartz.

Offering it to the room as he reached out his hand, the stone lying in his palm he spoke the short incantation as fast as he could without pronouncing anything wrong:

“Evoco te, manium de Mieczyslaw Stilinski! Occupa!”

 

_________________________

 

It had taken Stiles a moment to realize what Peter was about to do after he saw the piece of quartz in his hand.

A moment too long to be exact, because before he could decide if he wanted to be grounded with an object he already felt the pull towards the stone.

It was impossible to resist the urge to touch the crystal and when he did he felt himself being pulled into it.

 

He had expected this to feel crammed, to feel like the containment was too tight for his entity, but that wasn’t the case. Thinking about it logically it should have been obvious since a spiritual being wasn’t matter but energy and didn’t actually need much material space.

Besides that realization he also felt calmer and more peaceful here.

It wasn’t really a physical place, more like another plane of existence.

In here he felt like he was able to rest his mind from all the influences of the outside world. Taking refuge in the comfortably cool, bright and clear atmosphere of the stone’s natural energy.

It was such an extreme contrast to how he had felt the last few weeks since his death - emotions getting worse and more uncontrollable with every day - he almost forgot about the very real reason he was agitated right now.

Almost, but not quite.

So Peter was his mate and had never told him.

Because he had thought it’d only be baggage to Stiles.

Yeah, calming quartz was great but that still made him furious.

Who was Peter to simply decide that!

He was going to give the guy a serious ass whooping for that part.

 

Getting out of his new refuge was easier than Stiles had feared.

When he did he was hovering over the TV table on which the Quartz was lying.

he quickly tested out his moving range and was satisfied he could still get into every corner of the apartment.

He found Peter in the kitchen, making tea.

For a moment he thought about splashing some of that boiling water in the werewolves face and was prepared for his angry thoughts to get the lights and maybe even the tab going again, but neither did.

So the stone didn’t just bind him and give him refuge, it really did ground his abilities.

He hoped he was still able to do those things intentionally though.

Tentatively Stiles reached out with his mind to connect to the electrical currents in the walls and played with them.

The lights flickered and Peter looked up with a smile.

“Welcome back Stiles. Could you stop though? Not being in control of your powers is not an excuse anymore.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out and opened and closed the tab several times.

The older man sighed, still smiling.

“Very mature.”

Stiles frowned.

_ “Yeah well, I still got a bone to pick with you. You aren’t getting off the hook this easily.” _

 

After the tea was ready Peter took it into his living room and sat down on the couch before reaching for the piece of quartz, which had a hole to pull a necklace through, which he did before putting it on and resting the stone against his skin, underneath his shirt.

“Now I should be able to hear you, I got the feeling you might have more to say to me.”

Stiles hovered in the air opposite of Peter, crossed his arms and snorted, which made the werewolf smile.

_ “Yeah, asshole, fuck you.” _

Peter grinned and touched his mug to check if the tea was still too hot.

_ “I should really just throw that tea in your face.” _

That got Stiles a slight frown from Peter.

“Please don’t, it’s still really hot and I am somewhat sensitive when it comes to burn scars in my face, they might take longer to heal due to emotional trauma.”

Stiles huffed but had to agree the man had a point there.

_ “Taken. I’m still mad though.” _

Peter nodded and sighed.

“Rightfully so. I know it must have come as a shock to you to hear we are mates. I really didn’t intend for you to ever find out.”

Seriously?

_ “You think knowing about it is what makes me mad? How could you hide that from me? For years? You must have known I consider you attractive, you must have sensed that, it’s not like I knew how to hide my scent back then...and Malia...that can’t have been easy, watching your daughter date your mate, why didn’t you say something or leave, why did you stay? Why did you never say as much as a word?!? _

_ And why let it count now? Why avenge me? If you never gave me the chance to decide if I wanted to be with you, why do you get to avenge my death as if we had been? Why do you have the right to do this and not Derek or Scott, or even my dad and the rest of the pack?” _

 

_______________________________________

  
  


Peter had to admit he hadn’t prioritized that. To him it had been a no brainer Stiles wouldn’t want to be with him. So why mention it? Why introduce that issue? Why take that risk.

“I understand why you are upset, but I didn’t want to put anything more on your plate than you already had to deal with.”

He heard an undignified scoff and then Stiles’ angry voice was echoing through his head again.

_ “Give me a break with that lukewarm bullshit Peter! Are you trying to fool me or yourself? I have been capable of handling way worse than finding out I’m some bad wolf’s destined partner. You were afraid to be rejected after all the shit you pulled. You hid that information from me way longer than justifiable through that puny little argument you keep hiding behind. You consider yourself unworthy of anybodies affection, even mine or Malia’s and do your best to stay away from any chance to get rejected and hurt by staying away from any chance to be forgiven and loved. And you do that to an extent where you don’t see how you rob others of the chance to have a loving and meaningful relationship. What gives you the right to decide I didn’t deserve a soulmate, what gives you the right to decide she doesn’t deserve a father?!” _

Hearing that stung and he couldn’t defend himself here so he tried to deflect.

“Why do you keep bringing up Malia?”

_ “Because I thought you were hiding from her efforts to reconnect for years, with Derek and even more with Cora as well and now, knowing what I know the pattern is becoming more clear than ever and it’s come to the point where it has affected my life personally.” _

Peter wanted to protest, wanted to argue against all that, but the words hit hard and painful enough for him to know they were true.

It was also the main reason he hadn’t moved away, because he wasn’t able to move on, he hadn’t truly made peace with his past.

He had just accepted the role of the bad guy helping the good guys out when it suited him, because that was what he felt capable being.

Roles like father or partner felt very far from what he identified with.

At the same time though they felt very close to what he wished he could be, what he hoped he might one day be able to become.

Head hanging low, face hidden in his hands he tried to find out what to say.

Or maybe more how to say what he knew needed to be said.

Admitting anything like that would open up a giant surface for anybody to attack him on and that was scary.

But Stiles was right, he deserved at least that much.

Breathing in deeply he prepared himself for the worst and silently a little part in the back of his head hoped for something better.

“You are right. I am sorry and I know that doesn’t cut it especially since...since for you it’s too late to even change anything...I guess at the end of the day I am still selfish in many ways.”

 

____________________________________

 

Hearing Peter agree and admit to his shortcomings mellowed something in Stiles.

He long had felt some kind of connection to the wolf and had been on a path to find out what that was about for the last few months. But now he knew what it really had meant and it settled something in him.

Hearing Peter’s words also made him aware the werewolf thought Stiles was dead for good. For a moment he thought about just mentioning his plans, but then he decided against it.

Right now Peter felt guilty about taking the chance to choose for himself from Stiles. And Stiles was able to use that guilt to stay at the top of their power imbalance despite Peter having him basically trapped in that stone.

Emotional power was in the end more important than physical power.

And after he had risen again they would be even in terms of keeping secrets.

Able to start new with a clean slate.

_ “It might be too late for me, it’s not too late for your other relationships.” _

Peter made a face “Stiles...no...I don’t think-”

_ “You just said I was right. Are you trying to pivot?” _

“No...but...okay, how about a deal. I’ll avenge you and afterwards I’ll do what you say about my relationships?”

_ “I don’t see why the vendetta can’t be a way to reconnect with people like Malia and Cora, especially since they are still here for at least another week but I’ll take what I can get.” _

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t still comment on it now and then.

  
  


________________________

  
  


The next month Peter was happy to have Stiles as company, although it still was strange to debate, banter and flirt with a ghost.

 

But one got used to a lot and soon putting on Stiles’ penchant became part of Peter’s morning routine.

 

_ “How can one person drink that much tea…” _

Peter smiled gently “Different teas can do a lot for mental and physical health Stiles, also it tastes good.”

_ “Yeah but don’t you get bored by hot leaf water?” _

Peter chuckled over his cup of ginger, lemon and black pepper tea.

“Am I Iroh and you are Zuko in this conversation?”

The spoon Stiles had been practicing his powers with fell to the ground.

_ “Why ON EARTH didn’t I know you watched Avatar? That’s just not right! _ ”

The werewolf shrugged “I guess it never came up. It’s very good though, in general pop culture was a nice surprise after the coma…”

_ “Oh right, you woke up in the middle of the pop cultural golden age...or maybe renaissance...not sure how to compare eras here…” _

“Golden age works fine I think. But only future historians will truly be able to tell you that.”

_ “Fair enough” _

“Are you going to pick that up?”

Peter pointed at the spoon.

_ “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna try.” _

“That’s my boy.”

 

_ \--- _

 

_ “You know, I have to say, the fact you can’t see me right now is kind of hilarious. I could be staring at your dick from an inch’s distance and you would be none the wiser.” _

Peter needed a moment to process that image while peeing, considering how to react. After maybe a second he smirked.

“Well are you?”

He could hear the younger man’s snicker.

_ “What do you think?” _

Peter shrugged and tucked himself away.

“I tend to assume you are sitting on the rim of the tub, staring at my ass.”

Another snicker.

_ “You know me too well.” _

“And yet you never fail to peak my curiosity anew.”

_ “How uncharacteristically sweet Creeperwolf.” _

“Oh come on Darling, I can be very sweet, it’s just rarely honest.”

He washed his hands and Stiles fogged the mirror to mindlessly draw while talking.

_ “Touche. Speaking of your silver tongue, you should call that magic supplier again since we now know they lied to us. Or maybe we should just drive there and speak to them directly…” _

Peter sighed while drying his hands on a towel.

“We can still drive there after we tried another phone call...at the moment I don’t really feel like driving for hours unless it’s really necessary.”

_ “I wouldn’t mind getting out of here for a while.” _

“We can go get groceries later or stalk Scott and the Sheriff again.”

_ “It’s not really stalking, don’t mock me for caring about them asshole.” _

Peter rolled his eyes “It was an honest offer Stiles, I understand your concerns for them. Particularly your father. I just don’t fully understand why we aren’t telling him about you being a ghost.”

 

__________________________________

  
  


Stiles had considered that.

But there were a few points he just sn’t sure about. Would his father believe he was Stiles? Should he tell his father about the resurrection plans? Would his father be mad? Would he tell Scott? Stiles couldn’t trust Scott with his plan to be reborn. He couldn’t trust Scott with Pete’s and his plan for revenge either.

And then he just dreaded the conversation with his dad, it’d bring up so many old wounds, he wasn’t sure he was able to handle it. He might be more grounded now, but those were powerful emotions. It might turn into a total disaster.

 

When Stiles came back out of the crystal he had instinctively retracted to while mulling over all his thoughts on the topic - totally losing sight of the conversation they had had - Peter was putting on a jacket.

_ “Where are we going?” _

“To your father. You obviously are overwhelmed by the decision to tell him. I am not. I understand there are variables you can’t control but at the end of the day right now we have a chance to stop him from destroying himself.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say.

Maybe death had made him too indecisive.

Having Peter leave him no choice felt like a relief.

He was still terrified something bad might happen, but there was no way of avoiding it now. He knew if he tried to argue against it Peter would be the one with the better reasoning.

 

\---

 

When they were at his childhood home, the sheriff’s car in the driveway, Stiles felt strange. He assumed if he still had a stomach it’d be in turmoil right now. Without it though he was left with a vague sense of unease.

Peter went straight ahead and rang the doorbell.

For a while nothing happened and Stiles could have looked inside but he was too nervous to do that, he felt like crawling into his crystal more than anything.

Peter rang the bell again.

“I can hear him inside, he is on the couch, watching TV…”

Stiles sighed and weighed the options but in the end he decided to tell Peter what to do.

_ “Ring once long, two times short. Pause. Now once short, once long. Pause. And now again once long, two short.” _

Peter smirked at the morse code.

“You really want to freak him out like that?”

_ “It was how I used to signal him I needed to be let back in, back when he used to get drunk a lot and sometimes sent me out of the house because he couldn’t handle me being there.” _

Peter frowned “I suddenly feel a lot less inclined to help him. Let’s go back home.”

_ “No! We had a rough time, both of us and he wasn’t the best of dads but he also wasn’t as bad as he could have been. And he worked hard on repairing our relationship. Don’t get mad about old stuff, just be there for me no matter how bad it gets, please!” _   
  


 

____________________________________

  
  


Peter felt a lot of compassion for the way Stiles dreaded the confrontation, but before there was a chance to say anything else the door was pulled open roughly.

“Stiles?!”

Sheriff Stilinski, rattled expression, unclean clothes, unshaven and with red eyes, pale skin and more frown lines than Peter remembered, looked bad and smelled worse.

He had clearly been drinking and probably not changed his clothes for the last three days.

“Hale.”

The name sounded almost accusatory.

“How did you know to do that?”

Peter heard Stiles sigh deeply.

_ “This isn’t going to work, he will either think he dreamt this or will just not remember. Coming here was a bad idea.” _

Peter shook his head slightly and gave Stiles’ father a polite smile.

“Your son told me. And there are a few other things I need to tell you about Stiles. Things you will want to hear. But I can only tell you once you sobered up. So I’ll come in and wait until you are and then we’ll talk.”

The Sheriff fixated him, looking at least somewhat more alert.

“My son is dead you fucking creep and I’m certainly not going to let you in my house.”

Peter was about to say he didn’t care and force his way in when Stiles stopped him.

_ “Wait, I won’t be able to change your mind, right?” _

Peter only raised one eyebrow and there was another ghostly sigh.

_ “Okay then, let him think he won and we’ll wait until he is asleep. Judging by the time and how he is slurring I’d give him two hours tops.” _

Peter hated the fact Stiles sounded so matter of factly but he decided to go with it.

“If that is your decision Sheriff Stilinski, I wish you a good night and will approach you at another time.”

The Sheriff stared at Peter for a moment, frowning deeply.

“Do everyone a solid and just leave Beacon Hills already.  Stiles might have been able to see past your crimes, but god knows that kind of thinking might’ve been what killed him in the first place. Get the fuck off my property!”

And with that the door was slammed shut and Peter exhaled.

“That’s what you had to come home to?”

Another sigh.

_ “In his defense, he thinks you are a crazy werewolf serial killer.” _

Peter smiled a bit melancholic “In his defense, I am.”

There was a dry laugh.

_ “It’s not what defines you anymore. Let’s go to the backyard, there is a tree from which we can watch him in the living room.” _

“How do you know that?”

_ “After I found out there are creatures with a passion for stalking me or my friends I started to figure out which spots to keep an eye on.” _

“Makes sense.”

 

It took barely an hour for the Sheriff to fall asleep.

Stiles made him wait for a while longer and then Peter picked the lock on the back door and followed Stiles directions after he assured him his father wouldn’t fully wake up again for quite some time.

He carried the drunk and half asleep Sheriff into his bedroom and forced him to drink a glass of water before placing a full glass on the nightstand.

After a bit of hesitation he undress the man to his underpants and laid him onto the side so he couldn’t choke in case he had to throw up.

The dirty clothes ended in the washing machine with the other already collecting dirty laundry and a fresh set of clothing was placed on the armchair at the window.

Done with all that Peter had time to kill.

He went back down and snooped around for a while before agreeing to Stiles’ suggested of them tidying up the place while waiting.

 

_________________________________

 

They had about an hour until Stiles’ dad would wake up - according to his alarm clock - when Stiles suggested they could make a healthy breakfast. Peter agreed to that as well but they soon found out that might not be all that easy, considering almost everything his father’s fridge had was eggs, red meat, greasy microwaveable ‘food’ and beer.

“This looks like he reversed all the changes you have made for him to stay alive.”

_ “No.” _ Stiles grumbled _ “This looks like he is actively attempting suicide by heart attack. I wish I could smack him over the head and yell at him for being so fucking irresponsible.” _

“Well you’ll be able to do at least one of those things today.”

_ “I hope so. How long would it take for you to run to the grocery store?” _

Peter shrugged “Five minutes.” 

Stiles left to get a pen and piece of paper.

Coming back with both he started to make a list while Peter stared at the pen flying over the paper.

“You are getting better at controlling objects.”

Stiles smiled although Peter couldn’t see that and continued writing.

_ “All right. You’ll have to buy some fruits, veggies, blueberries and strawberries are good. maybe some nuts like walnuts and hazelnuts. Also orange juice, whole wheat flour, soy flour, unsweetened almond milk _ and some soy cream. Here you go. Please leave me here, I will start on the coffee.”

Peter took the note and sighed.

Stiles was aware Peter probably hadn’t anticipated all this when encouraging Stiles to talk to his father, but there was no going back now.

“I hope you appreciate me doing this, considering I won’t even get a blowjob or something like that.”

Stiles smiles again.

_ “If that’s the kind of reward you want I am sure we can find some sort of toy related solution. As you said, I am getting better at controlling objects.” _

Peter grinned but by now Stiles could see the slight insecurity hiding behind it.

“Don’t bother. If it’s not your beautiful lips I don’t want it. I’ll hurry up.”

With those words he took off Stiles’ crystal and placed it next to the coffee machine.

 

\---

 

At the time Stiles’ father was waking up and making noises upstairs Peter had been sitting at the kitchen counter for a while and Stiles had been making pancakes with as little oil as possible, fresh berries and coffee with almond milk.

His father stumbled down, looking very confused and hungover, dressed only in pants and shirt, staring at the pan which had started to clean itself.

From his perspective at least.

“I vaguely remember telling you to fuck off Hale.”

Stiles could see Peter show that polite smile again.

“I distinctly remember telling you I’d approach you about the topic another time.”

That got Peter another look of confusion.

“My head hurts too much for this kind of mindfuck right now.”

Stiles filled up a glass with tap water and placed it next to his father with two painkillers and his medication against high blood pressure.

_ “I’d usually mockingly tell him to be a big boy and take his meds.” _

Peter grimaced at that before smiling sadly.

“Come on Sheriff, be a big boy and take your meds.”

Stiles could see how creeped out his father was and a part of him was delighted.

The small, hurt child in him liked the idea of his father being freaked out by a serial killer werewolf impersonating his own dead son after he had had too much to drink.

But another part of him was aware this would become counter productive if they kept it up for too long.

_ “This has gone far enough. Please just tell him what is going on. _ ”

 

So Peter told Stiles’ father everything from his point of view. Of course Stiles’ father wasn’t convinced right away but eventually he gave in to Peter’s reasoning and touched Stiles’ crystal.

Stiles felt extremely anxious about this. What was he supposed to say, how was he supposed to act?

“Stiles?”

Oh god, oh damn, oh fuck, what the fuck, what the hell...Peter, Peter! Peter was the one Stiles felt grounded with Peter was the on Stiles had gotten used to. This was an entirely different thing.

Peter was guilt, loneliness, pride, witts and calculation as a first line of defense to anything. His father was raw grief, raw suffering and lack of agency. There was nothing left in his father. Or almost nothing. Stiles could sense a little bit of hope sprouting and he latched onto that to not fall into the abyss of his father’s depression and lose himself in it.

_ “Yes. Dad, I am here.” _

It was still hard to see his father cry and if Stiles could have he would have cried as well, but instead he just hung there, not knowing what to do, glancing after Peter as he left the room with his plate of pancakes to give them the illusion of privacy.

 

\---

 

Eventually they got talking. Stiles explained his situation. He also explained his connection to Peter and made sure his father understood Stiles was neither surprised nor unhappy about it. He explained what his plan was to come back and why his father couldn’t say anything about it because Peter might overhear them from the other room. He stressed why his father shouldn’t tell Scott, Derek or anybody about Stiles’ plans either and gave his old man a stern talk about his diet.

At that point they started to have a serious argument but both of them knew his father had no chance at winning it.

And predictably it ended with Stiles shouting. 

“ _ If you die before I can hug you again so god and every other willing higher power I can summon help me I will resurrect you and force feed you every food you hate. I didn’t work out over fifty healthy meals you actually like only for you to kill yourself the moment you think I am not looking. You know of all the things that happened because I died this is by far the one I am most upset about. And yes, you drinking again is a very close second. It’s like you want to see what organ gives up first, your heart or your liver. WHAT THE FUCK DAD!!!” _

Stiles last words echoed on the audible level so Peter had definitely heard it as well, if the flicking lights hadn’t already been an indication Stiles was emotionally unstable.

But with this last exclamation the electricity in the entire house was gone.

 

_______________________________________________

 

Peter decided this was his queue to come back into the kitchen.

He took the crystal from the Sheriff’s hands and hung it around his neck.

“Are you okay Stiles?”

For a moment he got no answer and was worried but then he heard Stiles’ embarrassed voice.

_ “Yeah...I guess you could say I blew off the steam…” _

“You hotwired an entire house. Maybe we really should avoid emotional stress for you from now on.”

A weak laugh.

_ “Yeah well...this probably was the biggest stressor I had waiting for me and that’s dealt with.” _

Peter glanced at the older man sitting at the kitchen table, staring at him with the crystal.

“You think?”

Stiles hummed.

_ “Yeah, I felt his resistance drop, he gets my point. Do you think it’d be too much work for you to check on him once a week? And maybe text him for me now and then.” _

Peter smiled softly.

“Of course not.”

He sat back on the kitchen table again and shoved the plate with the cold pancakes and fruits towards the man still staring at him.

“From now on Stiles and I will check in with you weekly.”

He wrote down his number on the back of the grocery list.

“If you feel like texting Stiles you can do that by texting me and I’ll let Stiles answer.”

Peter could see some dark and involuntary thought rush over the man’s features and he assumed it had to do with how much this made both Stilinski dependant on him.

He wasn’t going to comment on it though.

Everyone was entitled to their own thoughts and as long as the Stiles’ father accepted the connection they had he was content to live with that status quo.

There was a small nod and the man started eating while Peter rinsed his own plate and mug before trying to turn the electricity back on with Stiles’ help.

 

_ \--- _

 

Waking up to Stiles eerily singsonging his name was very strange.

“What the fuck Stiles…” he mumble with a weak, tired voice.

“ _ Wakey wakey my favorite homicidal werewolf.” _

He turned to hide his face in his pillow and became vaguely aware he had morning wood. He grunted frustrated and heard a giggle.

“ _ Yeah...kind of why I woke you up...you were so tired you forgot to take off the necklace last night…” _

“And you couldn’t just hide in there until I woke up on my own?”

_ “I tried, but your subconscious emotions get transmitted into the crystal sometimes and you got mad nightmares dude...like you should really go see a therapist about them.” _

Oh great…don’t get into it Peter, Stiles doesn’t know how often you’ve thought about it…

Fuck it.

“And what am I supposed to tell a therapist? I am a werewolf who probably has some form of ptsd because hunters killed almost my entire family, the surviving rest of them left me in a mentally awake but physically comatose state in a town full of said hunters for years. I then got into a murder spree when I finally got out of the coma, killed my own niece, non-consensually bit a teenager in an instinctual craze to build a pack, found out my soulmate was said teenager’s best friend, got killed by my beta, my soulmate and my nephew, resurrected myself and had an existential crisis over all I did and over the idea to be the destined partner of a child! Eventually I found out I had a daughter I never got to meet because my big sister took my memories of her - which resulted in my daughter not knowing she was a shifter, killing her adoptive family and living as a feral coyote in the woods for years. Also she’s the same age as my soulmate and they dated for a while so there’s that. But really that part barely matters because now my soulmate is dead and all I can do to keep moderately sane is to imagine what I’ll do to whoever is responsible for him dying. What do you recommend in terms of therapy doctor?”

There was deafening silence for quite a while.

But eventually he heard a dry _ “Wow” _ .

With a huff he fell back into his pillows from which he had risen while ranting.

“Yeah, no shit.”

_ “No, I meant: Wow, I can’t believe you just admitted to having a conscience.” _

“Well...you’ve seen more of me than I ever intended to show anybody. Why even try at this point...it’s not like you can go ruin my reputation anymore.”

 

\---

 

Other than moments like this they were mainly focused on finding the culprits of the hex and were making slow but steady process. Every once in a while though Stiles made comments like  _ “You know who would be helpful with that? A certain werecoyote.” _ Or  _ “I’m sure Cora has contacts down in Peru after spending over two years there…” _

Peter usually just refused and took off the necklace for a while but he couldn’t deny the truth in those words.

If he would be able to get over himself and just ask them for help they would surely come to his aid. Even though both had left Beacon Hills again by now.

They had also run into Derek at the grocery store once and Peter suspected in might not have been entirely accidental. Peter had left his car and seen his nephew climb out of his own, grimly nodding at him in recognition.

In true Hale fashion they had both silently gotten a cart and entered the shop, walking down an entire aisle, getting some of the things they wanted before any of them said anything.

Derek didn’t know it, but Peter had the pleasure of hearing Stiles comment on the entire behavior.

_ “Good grief, when does he ever smile...you could smile first, maybe - no, if you smiled that’d just look like you are up to something...just...I don’t know...yeah or do nothing except nod back and get a cart, sure. No words? Ist that a family thing? Is that a cute thing you do where you are rude to each other all the time? Is the whole time in the supermarket going to be you two silently pushing your carts next to each other? Oh no, really? You aren’t even going to make a comment about how Derek is shopping as if he owns a fitness blog called ‘the protein wolf’ or something?” _

Peter rolled his eyes but that was all the reaction Stiles would get out of him right now.

After they had rounded the corner of the first aisle Derek cleared his throat.

“Peter what...what does it feel like to find your soulmate?”

If Stiles wouldn’t have snorted in surprise Peter would have managed to keep on his poker face. But as it was he heard the young man make the undignified noise and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

_ “Well that came unexpected.” _

Peter had to agree with his companion.

And it was a question he had to genuinely think about.

To give his hands something to do he reached for some item and turned it between his fingers.

The memory was so distant, literally in another life and yet he remembered the pain and the shock at the realisation.

But that had been because of the circumstance surrounding him and his soulmate, it hadn’t been how he had known it.

“It’s difficult to explain.”

And a bit embarrassing while his soulmate was somewhere hovering around them.

“Never mind, it was a stupid question.”

Derek immediately retracted and even moved to put some space between them.

_ “Awwww nooooo, Peter, you can’t have Derek just leave like that, he came to you, he basically asked you to explain love to him...you are his uncle, the only older werewolf and family he has left!” _

Peter closed his eyes in frustration and murmured a few words under his breath, hoping Derek wasn’t listening with werewolf hearing.

“You can stop now Stiles, I get what you are doing.”

Then he cleared his throat to stop his nephew.

“Derek. Stay. It’s not like I don’t feel like answering, I just actually need a moment to think about how to describe it.”

He could see a slight blush over the younger wolves ears and neck before he turned back to him, face deliberately stoic and closed off to hide the insecurities he seemed to have about the topic.

“The first thing I remember is how my heartbeat immediately synced with his. It’s not something that happens once and then stays or something, it just happens when you are with each other, it immediately synced up. Which was especially noticeable with Stiles because of how fast it is- was -  but you know that.

His scent was intoxicating, it was still human, and it was still stenched with the meds he took, still full of all those annoying teenage hormones and all that, but it was just...it was a scent like home and adventure at the same time, and there was this faint promise of acceptance in it...for a moment it felt like anything I would have wanted before the fire - like perfection for another, less damaged version of myself.

But that’s just a promise of possibilities, you shouldn’t read too much into it.

It doesn’t mean they will be yours at some point.”

Derek was quiet for a while and silently followed his uncle through the aisles.

When they had paid their things and were about to split up he cleared his throat again.

“I think...I think Stiles and you changed a lot over the years, you became more yourself again and he became...hard to describe, but in a powerful way. I think if he hadn’t died he might have decided to become yours if he had known.”

_ “Holy shit, Derek saying something kinda nice about you and me...is the world going to end?” _

Maybe...it had been awfully quiet the last few weeks.

“And if you need help with the...with your plans, just ask. I get why you have to do it. Which is also why I didn’t tell Scott who carved the spiral. He will probably eventually find out somehow, but unless you ask me for help I will stay out of this.”

_ “That settles it, we are all going to die!” _

Peter had a hard time not rolling his eyes at that because Stiles probably only said that because he thought it was a funny, ironic comment that might get Peter to react.

“Thank you Derek. I didn’t expect that from you, but it makes me actually happy you approached me about this.”

Derek smirked and Peter had to agree the world might be ending.

“I didn’t expect you not to be an asshole about it, but since you weren’t I am glad I approached you. Good luck uncle.”

“Till next time nephew.”

Derek walked away and Peter heard Stiles huff.

_ “I’m not sure I ever heard him talk that much all at once.” _

 

_ \--- _

 

Since that encounter Stiles had pushed harder for Peter to get someone else - for example Derek - to help him with his plans. His nephew offering to help was sweet, but he couldn’t stand those glares every time he suggested anything that wasn’t a peaceful solution. Why would he introduce that into his own agenda.

Eventually though Peter was worn down.

_ “The lead with the gallows crop ends in Peru, Cora might be able to pick up where it went cold for us. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had connections down there. Also Derek might be able to surprise you…he is clearly making an effort.” _

Yeah well, Peter hadn’t asked him to do that.

He didn’t even have to say that because apparently the next stage of Stiles’ powers was mind reading or something, they hadn’t talked about it.

_ “With the exception of Cora who has been at least as closed off as you the last few years your whole left family is making efforts. So did I. We are at the same topic as weeks ago Peter. You can’t keep pushing everyone away.” _

He shrugged.

“Sure I can. Also, the fact it’s my ‘whole family’ becomes a lot less impressive if you consider you are really talking about two people. Plus, you may have tried to become friends, but don’t pretend you wanted to be with me.”

He knew that wasn’t fair, but he was fed up and frustrated because he couldn’t find that stupid witch no matter what new informations he uncovered.

The whole thing about the ingredient Stiles talked about had been a wild goose chase and at some point one had to try it another way. Also, why would Cora agree to help him, there wasn’t really a need to bother her.

_ “You never gave me the chance asshole.” _

Fuck it, maybe they needed to have a fight, maybe Stiles needed to realize the truth was no one would truly want Peter around.

“All right, now you had a chance, are you any more interested now? I bet not, so please stop it. I said I would do what you want once I’ve avenged you but that doesn’t mean I believe any of them will want me in their life. I just agree they deserve the chance, I don’t think they will take it. So can we now go back to figuring out if this text is talking about a galanthus or a lily of the valley.”

_ “I was already interested back then. I just wasn’t sure what exactly we might be able to be. And like I said, you never gave me a chance to find that out.” _

Peter felt like all pent up anger about the topic was punched out of him by those words and he faltered.

“Wha…” his throat was dry as the desert and he simply put his head on the cool, wooden table he was sitting at.

This was all simply too much.

How was he supposed to handle such an emotional punch.

Being told there had been a good chance for them, while at the same time being told he blew that chance because he had been too afraid was like a punch to the gut. Knowing Stiles somehow was now closer to him, more permanently with him than he had ever been in life, yet physically as unreachable as he could ever become didn’t make it any better..

_ “Also, if my knowledge about german dialects serves me right that should be a lily of the valley.” _

He could hear the smugness in the younger man’s spiritual ‘voice’ and groaned.

“I hate you.”

_ “You don’t.” _

“No, I don’t.”

_ “You are stuck, you will eventually have to ask somebody for help. Preferably somebody well aligned with our moral flexibility. So maybe rather Malia or Cora.” _

Peter sighed and looked up from the table again.

“You are right. Though Derek is the closest in proximity.”

_ “Isaac might actually be a decent compromise.” _

“Only we can’t trust him not to involve Scott and once Scott gets involved we will have to deal with his righteous commentary and well meant sabotage.”

_ “True. Lydia would be an option, but she is probably way too busy and she has very clearly distanced herself from the supernatural life - which makes sense considering how sensitive she is to it’s energy shifts.” _

“Yeah, she left almost instantly after your funeral, I don’t think she’d appreciate me involving her. Plus she can be a wild card.”

_ “So...Malia?” _

“Let me sleep on it.”

 

________________________________

  
  


After Peter had given in to the suggestion to ask someone for help they had gone through some serious consideration on who to eventually involve.

In the end the choice fell on Cora. Though she was the one furthest away in distance they really did hope exactly that distance might make her the middle man they needed to get some information out of Peru’s supernatural underground networks.

That decision being made Peter still had to actually contact his niece and Stiles was almost surprised how hesitant his soulmate was.

Of course it made sense if you thought about it, Peter had done everything to shut others out for the last couple years and essentially for his entire second life.

Cora on the other side of the equation was actually even worse, at least when it came to contact with Beacon Hills. It was obvious she had found her refuge in South America and was happy to keep out of old family business. After all she had been way too young to truly get invested in all tat before the fire.

_ “Peter…” _

Stiles understood the struggle, he did, but this was the best shot to reach out without making it awfully awkward. At least right now Peter had an agenda he could lead with instead of just calling this what it partly was - a way to reconnect with the family and loved ones Peter had.

“I know. But what if she says no? Do I then have to move on to someone else or can I continue trying on my own?”

_ “You are not on your own asshole.” _

Peter frowned, it was a small movement in the corner of his mouth, but Stiles still saw it and he knew it wasn’t fair, he knew his spiritual presence wasn’t the same as being physically there, but the comment had still stung a little, so he stung back. Peter probably wouldn’t have appreciated Stiles holding back anyways.

“Doesn’t really change my question though, does it?”

Fucking smartass.

Stiles sighed.

_ “Look, if you really want to do this without anybody else so badly you don’t have to listen to me. I am literally incapable of keeping you from anything or forcing you into anything. You bound me to this crystal, the moment you place me in your family vault or something I can’t even let your lights flicker or your tabs run anymore. I personally think you need another set of eyes, another brain working on this, someone simply with other ideas. Additionally but separately I think my soulmate deserves to live and not just vegetate, so I have a clear motive to try and encourage you to reconnect with people you still care about. But I am not going to start some kind of fight over it. It’s your life, not mine.” _

He couldn’t keep from snorting undignified at his own last sentence.

_ “Literally.” _

 

He expected a comeback, he expected protest or maybe even resigned agreement.

What he didn’t expect was Peter looking surprised.

The man stared into nothing, mouth slightly hanging open as if he had already been about to respond.

Time was different as a ghost, Stiles was little more than bundled up thoughts, so all actions he took were barely slower than actual thoughts. He had had time to study Peter’s expression and rush in and out of his quartz sanctuary to get a read on Peter’s emotions before his expression significantly changed.

Peter seemed to feel slightly positive, but somehow also sad and conflicted, it didn’t really help Stiles understanding.

After maybe a bit over a second though Peter was back to normal, closed off facial expression and all.

Then he sighed as well and smile defeated.

“Ok, you win.”

What the actual fuck?

_ “Did you just back down? Is this for real? First Derek, now you? Are you two hexed?” _

Peter shook his head and grinned, apparently amused he had been able to baffle Stiles.

“No Darling, I just see your reasoning and I am not against doing what makes my soulmate happy.”

Stiles needed a moment to catch on to what Peter had really said but then he understood.

Peter had been surprised Stiles had peripherally referred to him as his soulmate. He probably only now understood Stiles had no issue seeing them both connected like that. Up until just a few moments ago Peter probably still had been convinced Stiles would never have truly wanted to be his mate.

If he had known capitalizing that connection would get Peter to do what Stiles wanted him to he would have used that a lot earlier.

He only had held back with the soulmate stuff because he hadn’t been sure a hopeless, late love interest would help their situation.

Now he knew better.

_ “Right now it’d make me happy if you called Cora and asked her for help. I mean, I could probably call her as well, but you’d have to do the talking. _ ”

Peter chuckled.

“With a flip phone you might have been able to, but how will you work a smartphone without a body, not to mention body heat?”

_ “Fuck, you are right - but also not getting off the topic, call your niece Peter.” _

“Uh, bossy, I like it.”

Peter actually grabbed his phone and this time only hesitated a moment before calling Cora.

 

\---

 

The rest of their search for the witch went strangely smooth.

Cora agreed to help her uncle avenge Stiles without hesitation.

She didn’t even ask why he was the one avenging Stiles and just rolled with it.

Her contacts were able to confirm the purchase of the gallows crop after only a few days.

It really pissed Peter off how easy it had been once he had followed Stiles’ advice - and Stiles had to admit he might have been slightly smug about it.

Cora had apparently traded in a few favors to get a list of the few people who bought those crops in the past few months before Stiles’ death.

Most had been local witches specialized on using the ingredient because it was more available to them, but two had been Americans. One lived in California and one in Wisconsin.

 

\---

 

On their drive to Barstow Peter let Stiles pick the music. Partly because he knew Stiles as a ghost was at least as antsy as Stiles as a human and partly because seeing and hearing the channels change reassured him Stiles wasn’t just a voice in his head. Of course there were many proofs for that, but now and then he couldn’t fully get rid of the doubts. When the channels were switching and the voice in his head was humming along to particular songs Peter never had bothered paying attention to it was easier to believe Stiles was really with him.

Even if it was ‘only’ as a spiritual presence.

 

At some point his phone rang and he picked up.

Stiles hissed.

_ “No phones while driving Peter!” _

Peter shrugged “I heal and you are dead, also I have perfect reflexes so just shut it, it’s Cora.”

 

His niece at the other end sounded confused.

“Who are you talking to?”

Peter closed his eyes and sighed. He was an idiot to slip up like that.

“Difficult to explain while on the phone. I’ll show you once we meet up. Where are you now?”

“About an hour away from Barstow, you?”

“Maybe a bit less. I’ll find a motel and get a room, then text you the address.”

“Sounds good, see you soon.”

“Looking forward to it Pup.”

He could basically see the eye roll but was also able to hear the smile.

“If you keep calling me that I’ll punch you.”

“I’m terrified.” Peter answered flatly and ignored Stiles snickering.

_ “You two are adorable. If you fuck this up I’ll come back from the dead only to kick your ass.” _

Peter hung up the phone and shrugged.

He wouldn’t mention the fact he’d immediately cut everyone off entirely if that would somehow bring his soulmate back.

Even if it’d destroy all his chances to be with him he’d still do it.

And knowing that, feeling that so clearly in the core of his existence was something that did actually scare him.

He wasn’t good at being selfless.

 

_________________________

 

The motel wasn’t great, but if all went well they’d only have to stay a day or two.

Peter was pacing a bit and Stiles could feel the man’s nerves.

_ “I can’t believe I ever considered you aloof and intimidating.” _

Peter’s mouth twitched into a weary smile.

“Give me a reason to scheme, someone to kill, someone to charme and manipulate, I’m your guy. Having me socialize with people I care about...that’s just cruel.”

Stiles mockingly pouted although Peter couldn’t see it.

_ “Yeah I know, I’m so mean, but I love to see you suffer through it.” _

He sighed. 

_ “Unless of course you really don’t want to. We have maybe ten more minutes to head to the witch before Cora’s here and joining us.” _

Peter shook his head.

“No, I could use someone in case the witch is more powerful than we think. Backup is a good thing to have. Also, I do miss spending time with Cora. I’m just worried it will be impossible to go back to how we were before...everything.”

_ “Yeah well. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing. She was a child then, she is a young adult now. Don’t try to rebuild the past, it’s out of anyone’s reach - well not necessarily in a magical time travel sense, but right now, metaphorically. Offer her a chance at a new formed relationship with the person you are now.” _

“What if she doesn’t want that?”

_ “Then you say the offer stands and there are no hard feelings and let her go her way.” _

“You make it sound so simple.”

_ “The concept is simple, the act itself is not.” _

“How have you become the wise one…”

_ “I’ve always been, you were just too distracted by my dorky demeanor and sexy ass.” _

“I have never been distracted by your dorky demeanor. But in my defense, it’s a very sexy ass.”

_ “Was.” _

“You little Brat, don’t make me sad.”

Stiles smiled and kept the last part to himself - It was and would be again.

Although that was still a few more weeks in the future.

 

Before either of them could say more Peter turned his head and murmured “Cora’s here.”

Stiles floated through the door to see the youngest Hale park her motorbike, take off her helmet and make her way to the room number Peter had texted her.

A few steps and Peter stood up to open the door before she could knock.

“Hello Pup.” he smiled carefully and she smiled back grimly.

“Hi uncle Peter.”

He moved to let her in and she was looking around the room a moment later.

“I would have sworn you had company in the car but I can neither hear nor smell anybody.”

Stiles remembered how much he liked her no bullshit attitude.

Considering Peter’s soft smile he probably felt the same.

“We have company but he exists on a plane that’s not easily accessible for most people without tools like this.”

He pulled out Stiles’ crystal from under his shirt and let it dangle on it’s chain before pulling it over his head and handing it to his niece.

Stiles lost the connection to Peter’s soul and mind but moments later he felt Cora as she reached out and took hold of his refuge.

It was strange to feel another soul besides Peter’s again.

The connection felt colder, not uncomfortable, but a lot less natural and homy.

Peter was his soulmate who he already shared a deep connection with - one that intensified every day. A connection that allowed him to see the man’s intelligence, insecurities, pride and loneliness. Beyond that Peter was a place to call home, a person he had always been able to be fully himself with. Someone Stiles knew appreciated him. Of course there was more but that was what Stiles thought of first now. Cora was just as smart as Peter, and prideful and lonely but she felt neither insecure nor guilty, instead there was an energy in her, a kindling fire waiting for fuel to burn. Beyond that she was a nomad. Stiles could actually feel it, the lack of a home, or rather the rejection of it. She was an unsettled force, roaming the world for a purpose to rightfully burn with.

“Am I supposed to sense anything?”

Stiles heard the voice and left the crystal in which he had preemptively retracted to avoid getting overwhelmed as he had gotten with his father.

“Give him a moment to adjust to you.”

_ “Sorry, it’s only the second time I made contact this way with anyone except Peter.” _

Cora’s face went from surprise to confusion and then realization.

“Is this...Stiles? Is that you?”

Smart girl.

_ “Sure is Baby Hale.” _

She had her mouth slightly open, it was obvious there were quite a few questions running through her head. Stiles decided he’d just guess what they were.

_ “I am a ghost. I am really dead. No, Peter didn’t actively seek out my spirit, I accidentally latched onto him first and then he grounded me with the crystal. Yes I am in favor of you two avenging me. No you can’t see me. But yes, I can see you. No, I can’t read your mind but I can get your emotions when you are in contact with the crystal. Also, I am very happy to see you and to be able to speak to you, it has been too long.” _

She smiled at his last words, although it turned into a sad smirk almost immediately.

“When your monthly messages didn’t come the last few times I was pretty sad. I know I haven’t been very present the last few years, but I liked the fact you checked up on me now and then.”

_ “Frequency of contact and geographical closeness aren’t the most important factors Cora. You might have needed and still need time to yourself to figure out your life, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still part of what I consider my pack. I know it’s not the magical bond of an actual werewolf pack, but it’s still a bond I care about.” _

She snorted but he could feel how much she appreciated his words.

“What are you, a force ghost doling out wisdom?”

_ “Someone has to show you idiots some love, death isn’t gonna stop me from doing that.” _

She laughed and he could see she was holding back some tears so he tried to mellow down, let her take in the new informations.

He hadn’t anticipated his death or the news he was still there in some way would hit her hard enough to cry over it. Apparently his efforts to stay in contact had meant more to her than he had dared to hope.

It was strange to realize more people had been affected by his death than he would have thought possible. He had neither considered Peter nor Cora to care as much as they did.

While Cora swiped her eyes while making it look like she was just rubbing them after the long ride Peter couldn’t hide a small smile as he went to make some tea.

The younger Hale eventually sat on the small couch in one corner of the room and twisted the crystal between her fingers.

“I am happy to talk to you Stiles, but why exactly are you still here? Is revenge holding you here? Something like that?”

Again, straight to the point, so refreshing.

_ “Peter told me it hadn’t been an accident, I had no idea. I’m still here, because this isn’t the end. Please don’t tell Peter yet, but I have plans in place to come back.” _

 

Cora looked positively shocked.

“What? But how…I mean you are cr-”

He could see her struggle.

Peter was way too close, he could hear anything she said.

_ “Cremated, yes. I chose a spell that very few people can make work. Specifically only a Spark can. I have researched many possible ways and had narrowed it down to four spells I was considering when I stumbled across this one. The cremation is necessary for the spell and at the same time makes sure than no one will suspect I might return, without a body to return to. Also, no one can do much shenanigans with my remains because there are no specific body parts left.” _

She seemed a bit overwhelmed by the information and he gave her time to take it in.

“Why…”

Her eyes pointed at Peter who acted busy but was certainly listening to every word. Stiles understood.

_ “I am guilt tripping him into reconnecting with you, Derek and Malia. He is my soulmate but never told me because he was convinced I would reject him and he wasn’t willing to take a chance. _

_ I told him he was wrong about me and that he might be wrong about you guys as well. So truth be told, asking you for help was partly because we needed you and partly because I want him to have a family and a pack again. _

_ If I would tell him I’m coming back though he’d just focus on speeding up that process and obsess over us becoming mates. He would ignore the fact there are other people he should let into his life. _

_ Not telling him that I’ll come back let’s me steer him more easily into making an effort to reconnect on his own.” _

A moment Cora had seemed confused but while listening she had started smiling and gently shaking her head.

“You basically just explained to me why you two belong together. You deserve each other, truly.”

Stiles chuckled because he could see Peter’s tense body and knew his mate desperately wanted to know what had made Cora say something like that.

Well he’d have to wait.

“Is it true though? That Peter was wrong?”

Stiles couldn’t resist checking what Peter’s face looked like.

He had a face somewhere between anger and desperation, one eyebrow raised and the corners of his mouth twitching between frown and reluctant smirk. Peter probably knew Stiles was partly keeping a secret with Cora just to annoy him and he was probably even more annoyed by the fact such a simple ploy was working on him.

Stiles knew Peter would be very conflicted when he found out what this was really about. He’d hate the fact Stiles had played him like that, he’d hopefully be thankful Stiles had only played him to help him in the long run and he’d be proud, maybe even turned on by the fact his soulmate was just as wicked and smart as he himself.

But back to Cora and her question.

With a thought he was sitting in the air across from her and smiled.

_ “He was. If I had known he was my soulmate I would have wanted to figure out what that could turn into. Was I right in thinking you would like to reconnect with him if he’s open to that?” _

“You were. He can consider himself very lucky to have you.”

That was apparently the queue Peter decided to take to join back into the conversation, because he came over with a teapot and two cups.

“Are you two talking about me behind my back?”

Cora smirked and took one of the cups.

“We are, live with it.”

Peter poured both of them a cup and sighed dramatically.

“I guess I will have to. Now, soon it’ll be nightfall and I suggest we make our way to Mr. Samten’s house when it’s completely dark. We try to find out as much as we can and either come back here to plan further or if there immediately seems to be a good way to go about it we strike right there and then.

Any objections?”

Stiles snorted.

_ “Did he always love to hear others tell him he is right as much as he does now?” _

Cora giggled.

“Oh yeah, that’s an original character trait.”

Peter frowned slightly, trying to hide his amusement over Stiles obviously making Cora laugh.

“Rude. If you were alive I would love to spank you for the audacity to make jokes at my expense without me being able to retaliate.”

Stiles was now giggling as well.

_ “Ask him if he’d like me to call him ‘Daddy’ when he does.” _

Cora blushed slightly and tried to suppress a laugh which meant she just made a strangled, wheezing sound and shook her head.

“I am not asking him that. You’ll have to do that yourself.”

_ “You can always just hand me over.” _

She nodded offered Peter the necklace while still trying to get a hold of herself.

“Here, have your filthy boyfriend back.”

Peter took hold of it and Stiles felt the man’s emotions and mental presence wash over him and color his world in the comfort of the his presence.

“Thank you.”

Stiles was surprised there wasn’t more.

_ “You don’t object to her calling me your boyfriend?” _

Peter tilted his head.

“Do you?”

He could have fooled Stiles with that calm and indifferent expression if it hadn’t been for worry seeping through their connection.

_ “No. I just didn’t think you’d want to devote yourself to a dead guy.” _

“Well, as long as you aren’t against me having meaningless sex with others now and then I don’t see why this shouldn’t be how it is. I might not be able to see or touch you, but we can still share everything else.”

Cora had made a face “Ew, Peter, tmi.”

Stiles meanwhile chuckled intrigued before purring  _ “We could find out if I can touch latex and stuff like that...find a workaround to getting down and dirty.” _

Peter hummed pleased but didn’t say anything.

Probably for the better, otherwise Cora might decide she didn’t want to stay for her uncle and dead lover to discuss the possibilities of ghost sex.

 

________________________________________

 

It was night and they had settled themselves hidden close to the witch's house.

He had come home a few minutes ago and done nothing that suggested he had any wards up. But there could be some he didn’t have to interact with. There were no obvious magical symbols outside but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

After they waited a while longer Stiles informed him he was going to take a look inside and then didn’t say anything anymore for quite a while.

Peter was getting nervous and Cora nudged him, looking at him curiously.

He pressed his lips together and then whispered “Stiles is gone to take a look and so far hasn’t said anything since.”

“Oh” she breathed out and settled her eyes back on the house.

“I thought the crystal would like bind him to the person wearing it or something.”

Peter shrugged.

“He says he can move in a certain radius around the crystal. We are still trying to figure the whole thing out ourselves.”

She nodded absentmindedly and gave him a tight smile.

“You’ll find a way to be happily ever after, I believe in you.”

He stared at her for a while, thinking about that.

She sounded so sure.

Was that because of what Stiles had told her?

He really wanted to know what that had been, but he also didn’t feel like admitting it occupied his mind because that was exactly what Stiles intended to do with this.

_ “I’m back.” _

Peter flinched and lost his train of thought as Stiles’ voice was suddenly back.

Cora looked at Peter as if he was a cat that hadn’t landed on it’s feet like it was supposed to.

“And?” he asked, making an effort to sound unaffected in any way.

“What did you find?”

_ “Samten is making some late dinner at the moment. There is some magical stuff in there but nothing that screams for the guy to be an evil witch. I actually mostly saw homeopathic stuff. And I think we could just knock and let ourselves in if you two behave imposing enough.” _

Peter seemed irritated “No secret cellar or attic?”

_ “No, I checked. Mostly a cabinet full of herbs and some penchants.” _

Cora looked at Peter curiously.

He smiled grimly “Apparently the guy has nothing in there indicating he might be a dark witch.”

Cora furrowed her eyebrows and looked a lot like her brother for a moment.

“Then maybe the one in Wisconsin is the one responsible?”

Peter nodded.

“Possibly.”

Stiles hummed in agreement and then added _ “We still should make sure he isn’t the one.” _

Peter nodded again “True. We should check either way.”

Cora nodded as well and looked back at the house.

“We could just knock on the door and ask nicely.”

Peter nodded once more and straightened up a bit.

“All right, let’s do that.”

 

When the guy opened the door he looked first at Peter with an expression of worry and curiosity only to then slip into recognition and panic when his eyes wandered to the younger Hale.

Before they could react Samten had thrown something in their faces and hurried back into his house.

Both of them flinched, only to realize the dried wolfsbane thrown at them had never reached their skin. Instead it sank to the floor after hitting an invisible shield.

They both understood Stiles had somehow reacted fast enough to stop the attack but wasted no time talking. Instead they ran after Samten immediately, splitting up to cover more ground. Peter went upstairs.

The guy was frantically trying to collect some things and when he saw Peter in the corridor her made a motion with his hand to close the door of the room he was in.

“Up here” Peter yelled for Cora and then slammed into the door with his shoulders and superhuman strength.

The door didn’t move or crack though.

“Seriously?” He mumbled and cracked his neck to try again.

“Why so quiet Stiles?”   
  


________________________

 

Luckily there was basically no delay in Stiles thought and actions. That was the only reason he was able to rush forward and become solid enough for the aconite to be stopped by his presence. He was getting the hang of this whole ghost thing.

Rushing after the guy, his wolves close behind him he could see what was about to happen and tried to keep the door from closing, but that was too strong for him.

Now he was able to watch how Samten collected more items while his face spoke of pure panic. So he had been cautious enough to have poison ready at hand but not organized enough to have an escape plan in case he needed it.

This guy was a mess. Even if he was the guy who made the hex he certainly wasn’t the person actually behind Stiles’ death.

They had to interrogate this guy to find out more.

He heard Peter slam against the door and knew that wouldn’t crack easily. Samten had used a fairly simple but strong magical reinforcement on the wood and lock.

When Peter asked why he was so quiet Stiles scoffed.

_ “I am trying to think of something to stop the guy from leaving. Send Cora to the garden. Unless he is going to ride a broomstick out of here Samten will have to escape through there I think.” _

Stiles could hear Peter sharply order “Cora! Garden!” and was sure she understood.

Then he heard Peter slam into the door again.

_ “You won’t crack that door so easily.” _

“Yeah well, nothing else I can try, except maybe dig through the wall…can’t you possess him or something?”

Possess him?

Stiles had actually not considered that a possibility until now.

since he had been mostly just in Peter’s, his father’s and now Cora’s company the idea to possess someone and violate their free will like that just hadn’t occurred to him.

He didn’t like the idea much.

Being possessed had been a really fucked up experience to say the least.

He didn’t wish that on anybody.

On the other hand, he had been possessed by a malicious demon purposefully trying to torment and break him.

Maybe he would be able to just take over the body and not do any additional damage…

He could at least try.

Maybe it’d turn out he wasn’t able to do anything anyways.

With a reluctant look at the witch Stiles rushed into him.

 

There was some kind of acknowledged presence but it felt slippery and he couldn’t hold on to it.

He rushed through the guy and ended up floating into a cabinet.

He could see Samten had stilled and looked like he had seen a ghost.

Which he hadn’t.

He had felt a ghost.

So maybe he looked like that.

Ok, promising.

Stiles started a second attempt. This time he was able to latch onto the conscience he had felt and stay connected.

He could sense Samten’s mind was in frantic turmoil.

Stiles engulfed that entity of adrenaline flooded personality and started to send calming vibes.

First the foreign mind seemed unwelcoming to that sudden calming influence.

Samten probably realized something was subduing his consciousness.

There was no real struggle though and the feedback Stiles got wasn’t pained or tormented.

So it was possible to dominate a mind without trying to break it.

That was something he’d have to reflect on in regard to his own experience with the Nogitsune at a later point.

For now there was another goal to stay focused on.

More and more Samten’s mind started to quiet down.

Stiles explored further. He started to get an impression of how this worked.

He started to understand how to move around in the man’s mind without disturbing it. Step by step he lulled Samten into calm subconscious and took over control.

Finally fully in control - the witch’s own mind a small, protected bubble in the back of Stiles’ conscience - he opened his - Samten’s - eyes.

It was hard work.

After the time without a body this felt heavy and unnecessarily burdened.

A body felt like a prison for a spirit that was getting used to being far lighter and freer than a physical form could ever allow it to be.

He slowly moved the legs, trying to get a hang of it, remember how this worked when you had to order muscles and nerves to do your bidding.

It felt like eternity - but probably took just about the normal amount of time it took a human to move usually - for him to walk to the door and open it.

 

____________________

 

Peter stared at the witch in front of him and saw an unmistakably Stiles-like expression on the man’s face as he grinned.

“Tie me up Daddy.”

_ “Tie me up Daddy. _ ”

The way Stiles voice was in his head while the same words were spoken by the witch’s voice were very strange and would probably have creeped out most people.

He wasn’t really bothered, more fascinated and didn’t let it stop him from responding in kind.

“You have no idea how much I would have liked to hear that from you when you had your own body.”

The grin turned explicitly dirty.

“Oh I think I got a pretty good idea of that. Seriously though, tie this idiot up so we can question him.”

_ “Oh I think I got a pretty good idea of that. Seriously though, tie this idiot up so we can question him.” _

Peter nodded and they went downstairs into the living room.

Cora apparently had heard their conversation because she didn’t ask what was going on but had instead already pulled up a chair and duct tape.

They strapped Samten’s body in and Stiles wiggled it to confirm it was sufficiently restraint.

Then a few moments passed and the guy’s head lolled to the side.

_ “Ok, I eased out, Samten is still lulled in his subconscious. I think you’ll have to deliberately wake him up for him to come back.” _

Peter chuckled “You basically ghost-roofied him.”

Even if he couldn’t see anything Stiles voice sounded like he was frowning.

_ “I guess…” _

Peter decided he would have to follow up on that topic later.

In that moment when he had suggested it Peter hadn’t really thought about it but Stiles history with possession wasn’t great.

For now they had to stay on target though.

He went to the kitchen, got a glass of water and threw it into the witch’s face.

Samten’s eyes flew open and he gasped in panic, instinctively pulling on the duct tape and looking around him to figure out where he was.

Peter and Cora waited patiently while the guy frantically ranted and pleaded, spat vile insults and begged to be let go.

Eventually he came to a point where he seemed to have lost all his fight for now and Peter used that to say “Yeah, I agree. He isn’t the head of the operation.”

Cora didn’t blink at that but Samten looked at him in confusion.

Stiles snickered  _ “Pretending to talk to me, I love your mind games.” _

“I know you do, Sir. So what do you want me to do to him?”

Samten’s eyes went wider.

“Who are you talking to?”

Peter gave the guy the patented Hale stare.

“Shut up.”

_ “Mh, interesting, you introduce a higher entity he can’t converse with, making him dependant on you...where is this going Peter?” _

Stiles could see the glint in his soulmate’s eyes as he furrowed his brows and spoke with some reluctance.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pull a few fingernails first? Maybe break a few bones?”

_ “You play the sadistic evil monster only controlled by my word. He has to convince me through conversation with you to not let you torture him. You try to give him the feeling he is out of his depth and all he can do is be honest and hope for the best. Got it. No, I want you to ask him a few questions first. Start with showing him the hex, I want to see what kind of reaction he has.” _

Peter grinned grim and close to looking insane.

“As you wish, Master.”

As Peter said that Stiles could see Cora fully catching on to the fact this was definitely an act.

She returned back to her stern, unreadable and almost uninvolved expression immediately while Peter loudly dragged a second chair to sit across from Samten, close enough for their knees to touch, leaning into the guys personal space.

“So, Samten. I want you to listen very carefully and consider your options well.

My Master is the spirit of a very powerful spark. I am sure you know what that is. He was killed by this.”

Peter pulled out the reassembled hex and placed it on the guy’s lap.

Stiles was focused on Samten’s reaction, pleased when he saw panic and very clearl recognition.

“Yeah...I...I do - please tell me it’s deactivated...making that thing...I had nightmares for over a month, I wanted almost nothing more than to get rid of it!”

Stiles thought about what that statement implied.

Peter kept his grin on, although it was almost more a baring of teeth.

“Great, good, honest start. Well done. Let’s continue down that road. Because while I haven’t had a decent torture session in months and would love to take you apart piece by piece, sparing your vocal cords till the ugly end so I can hear you scream as long as possible, I’d love to do that to the person actually responsible for my Master’s death a lot more. So, who told you to make this?”

There was honest fear in the man’s eyes, probably because he could see Peter was totally serious about the atrocities he described.

“I...I really don’t know, he only texted me and never revealed his name.”

If Samten had wanted almost nothing more than to get rid of the fetish that meant whatever he had gotten in return was worth a lot to him.

Peter apparently had the same thought.

“What did you get in return?”

There was a pause because Samten had his lips pressed together and wasn’t answering.

Cora let a guttural growl rumble through her throat and the man flinched at it.

“There was a court case against me, he made sure I wasn’t convicted.”

That was surprising and telling. The guy - the person - who had hired Samten had to have some influence to pull something like that off. Also some serious issues with Stiles being alive.

Peter was asking the guy more details about the court case but Stiles felt like there was something he was missing.

Something was moving around in his head, an idea, a feeling, a hunch, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it yet.

The only governmentally influential people Stiles had had contact with were in the Bureau. And most people there only knew him as the young agent leading a team acting under total secrecy. Only about a hand full of agents were aware of both the supernatural division and the role Stiles played.

It was very likely the person responsible had been painfully close to him while planning to have him killed.

And finally it clicked.

He turned his attention back to the others as Samten was talking about the descendant of a Siren and how he had been sued for trying to cut off a strand of their hair for a potion.

_ “Ask him how he recognized Cora.” _

Peter stared blankly for a moment, probably thinking about the question before he nodded and repeated it for the guy to hear.

 

Samten had lost all will to resist them and just answered with a slightly quivering chin and lip.

“I...I got pictures of a group of people. They were in my mailbox one day with a note saying those were people who might ask questions...and probably not be friendly about it...”

Peter frowned, he seemed to have an idea what those pictures might look like.

Stiles had an idea as well.

“Do you still have them?”

“Y...yes...they’re in my room, my desk, left drawer.”

Peter made a short head gesture and Cora went to get them.

  
  


_______________________________

  
  


When Cora came back her face was concentrated on the images in her hands and she seemed angry.

“It’s-”

Peter took a few out of her hands and his suspicion was confirmed.

“Whoever is responsible has to have been at the funeral.”

Cora nodded and her eyes got bigger for a moment.

“That’s why he only ran when he saw me. You weren’t at the funeral.”

Peter nodded and looked closer at the angles and the faces he could recognize. The pictures had been taken from a little distance to catch more than one person at a time. They were often off center, as if made in a rush, trying not to raise any suspicions.

“Do you remember someone standing a bit to the side, maybe using a phone?”

Cora shook her head.

“It were quite a few people and I was focused on the burial.”

Peter sighed. So they would have to involve the rest of the Beacon Hills pack in the end.

“We will have to ask other people who’ve been there then.”

_ “No we don’t.” _

Came Stiles voice, it sounded cold and determined.

“Then how-”

Stiles spoke again, cutting him off.

_ “I know exactly who took those pictures.” _

Cora looked at Peter in irritation but then seemed to understand Peter wasn’t talking to her.

Peter didn’t ask the obvious question and Stiles answered anyway.

_ “His name is Joseph G. Dhorson. He is the Executive Assistant Director for Science and Technology. And he was my direct superior.” _

“How are you so sure?”

Stiles sounded so emotionally detached it worried Peter a bit.

_ “He is the only person in the know of my division who isn’t in the pictures. And he is the one FBI person I was a bit surprised to see.” _

Good enough.

“Ok, so let’s wrap everything here up and drive to Virginia.”

_ “No.” _

Why not?

“No?”

Cora, who had tried to follow the part of the conversation she could hear seemed confused too.

_ “No. We have to be smarter than that. This was planned for quite a while and without me it’d have been close to impossible to clearly pinpoint who the culprit might really be. I know Peter, you would have found out without me eventually. But still. Dhorson put real effort into this. We have to, and I want to, put real effort into destroying him as well.” _

Peter knew that really wasn’t supposed to be sexy but he couldn’t help but experience a form of heavy attraction towards Stiles in that moment.

 

__________________________

  
  


They wrapped up their business with Samten by untying him under his promise not to try any stunts and then their promise to leave him alone if he left them alone.

The guy seemed more than willing to take that deal and even apologized for throwing the wolfsbane. 

Though Stiles had the suspicion that was mainly because he was terrified by the idea either one of the werewolves might decide they actually did want payback.

Which Stiles could relate to. Peter and Cora could both be intimidating without ever changing their appearance.

 

Later on their way back they were alone in the car, Cora tagging along on her motorbike, looking like a leather wrapped assassin closing in on them.

“How are you Stiles?”

Peter’s voice was soft and gentle.

“ _ Careful there Big Bad Wolf, someone might get the idea you give a shit.” _

Stiles knew that wasn’t fair but he wasn’t in the mood to talk about his feelings.

The older wolf just nodded wistfully.

“Ok, I’m here if you need me.”

Asshole.

The radio started switching channels without Stiles actively changing them.

He was more grounded than before, yes, but his control over his powers had it’s limits. He was just so angry and didn’t know where to put that emotion.

“ _ Don’t try to be all wise and patient. Fact is that is a lie. You can take me off and stop listening to me anytime you want, all the while I am stuck here in a fucking piece of rock! Because I was stupid enough to trust somebody. I still don’t know why he did this to me, I don’t know what I did wrong, I thought I was finally in a position to do some good, to really make a change and my superior decides to have me killed? Why? Fucking WHY?!?” _

He felt so betrayed and frustrated. And it really wasn’t fair to yell at Peter of all people but he was the one who was there, for better or worse and right now for the raging, ugly worst.

But Peter barely let that fazed him until the car suddenly got slower and then came to a halt.

Cora behind them came to a stop as well and made a gesture as to ask what was going on.

Stiles knew what it was and he was even more frustrated about not having his emotions under control.

_ “I’m sorry…” _

“Don’t.”

Stiles looked at Peter whose face was only concern and compassion, no anger or frustration at all.

“Don’t apologize for letting out your emotions.

We are in a fucked up situation and you have been treated horribly. Most people will never know what it feels like to have their whole life, their entire existence literally ripped from them by someone they trusted. Hell, the most similar thing that happened to me turned me into a serial killing monster, you just  short-circuit ed my car, that’s really no that bad.”

Cora knocked on the window of the driver’s side and when Peter tried to let the window down he realized all electricity was out.

A look at his phone confirmed it was dead as well.

“You used some kind of electromagnetic burst or something. Your powers are still getting stronger. And I still don’t really know what you are, but you aren’t a regular ghost.”

No he wasn’t, but right now Stiles had other things to think about.

_ “Yeah…” _

Luckily the door hadn’t been locked so Peter was able to exit the car before calling someone from Cora’s phone to come and help.

 

The rest of their way back to Beacon Hills Stiles stayed in his crystal and thought about the best way to get payback.

 

___________________________

  
  


This was now Stiles’ project.

Peter had accepted that.

He was going to get his revenge by helping Stiles execute his and that actually felt even better than being the one instigating the revenge himself.

Because helping Stiles, witnessing his planning, being the one Stiles bounced ideas off of was a pleasure and he realized how deeply he missed this.

And even while they were doing it he still missed it as well.

Because hearing Stiles thought process and the passion with which his scheming mind worked was just one part. It had also been watching Stiles become all efficient and precise movements and actions when in a workflow on his boards. It had been the small gestures and habits Stiles used to exhibit when being lost in thoughts. The fiddling, putting random stuff in his mouth, creating new ideas over ideas for spells and traps and whatnot as side notes because his mind went into overdrive.

And the scent. Stiles smelled always pleasing to Peter, even when upset or scared Stiles’ scent itself was something Peter associated unmistakably with his mate. But when in a planning phase with Peter by his side their scents used to mingle while they were both in their comfort zones, able to relax.

Stiles had left his scent in most of Peter’s apartment over the last months before his death, but that wasn’t the same as the concentrated mixture they used to work in when spending hours together, working in the same room surrounded by books and magic. Plus, with every day Peter could sense less of Stiles’ scent in his place.

It was something he hadn’t known he’d have such a hard time coping with but he did. He even had told Cora to stay with Derek so no one’s scent would further contaminate what remained of Stiles’ - of course he hadn’t given that as his reason, he had told her his space was in no shape to welcome guests.

Which wasn’t technically a lie.

When Peter had looked up a scent cloaking spell to also keep his own scent from further contaminating the apartment’s atmosphere Stiles had asked what that was for, but Peter thought he had told a convincing lie when he said it was in case there were other werewolves in Dhorson’s environment.

He had also started sleeping on the couch Stiles had usually lounged on.

He knew all this was his wolf’s instinct’s doing.

The yearning for a physical sign was primal and felt almost impossible to suppress.

Which he didn’t want to do anyways because as bad as it felt, at least he felt something, at least there was still the affection, the love he had felt for his mate.

Or had started feeling?

They never really had been much to begin with, partners in crime now and then, allies at times, friends maybe recently…

He had never before now thought of Stiles in connection to the word ‘love’ in a romantic sense as he did now.

Before it had been a platonic love for someone that could have been in another life.

He had had admiration and affection for the boy and later young man, but never the love you had for a partner.

He had never allowed himself to go down that path.

Because he had been sure it could only lead to rejection.

And now that wasn’t the case.

Stiles hadn’t rejected him.

But in a way life had.

Fate had made them destined lovers and life had rejected that idea and changed the plans. Or so it felt when he wallowed in his misery, longing for a dead lover he never really had in life.

If Peter had been that kind of person he’d have cried.

But at this point he wasn’t sure he was still capable to do that.

And even if, he wouldn’t do that while Stiles might be able to witness it. There was no need to give way to the suggestion Peter might not be content with what they had - a spiritual connection.

It already was more than he had ever thought he’d get.

So instead of crying he usually went out to shift and run until he felt too exhausted to care how his heart felt.

 

_________________________

  
  


Peter of course thought he was hiding his agony well.

And he did, but Stiles wasn’t stupid.

Moping might be different with different species, but there were a few recognizable distinctly werewolf behaviors to witness.

Such as the whole thing about trying to be near a dear person’s scent.

Shedding and going running whenever the feelings got too strong.

Also there were some more human traits.

Sleep deprivation, loss of appetite, a tendency to be less communicative and on edge. The last two Peter did hide very well with Stiles, not so well when being on the phone with people he didn’t need to manipulate into doing his bidding though.

 

The shedding Stiles only started to see when Peter once slept in his wolf form - something Stiles had suspected Peter might be able to turn into but had never seen before.

Stiles had kept an eye on the development, concerned but not really alarmed. 

Mainly because he knew there were only four more days until the Seed Moon.

His plan to get back at Dhorson was actually already fine tuned enough to be set into motion.

All he needed now was his body.

To distract Peter and himself he insisted on their weekly visit to check on his dad.

He was doing much better actually.

Under pressure from Stiles he had started seeing a therapist again and also started going to AA meetings again. Stiles knew it wasn’t easy, partly even harder because his dad had to lie about a lot of the things that got him to fall back on the old habit, but all in all it was helping it seemed.

Stiles knew his dad still wasn’t eating as healthy as he should, but at least Stiles was able to make sure he mainly had decent food in his home.

When he and his father talked Stiles knew there was still a lot of hurt, on both sides, a lot of smaller issues to discuss about things they had thought were dealt with, wounds that had been ripped open by Stiles’ death and needed to be taken care of. But they were doing that, they were working it out.

And when they left the house again Stiles had to smile at Peter’s surprised face as his father hugged him briefly and thanked him for being there for his son.

Back in the car Peter mumbled “well that was out of nowhere…”

Stiles smiled mildly amused  _ “It really wasn’t. And I am happy he starts to see why I value you so much.” _

“You value me...am I an asset then?”

Stiles giggled and played with the radio.

_ “Among other things. Speaking of assets. I need to talk to Cora tomorrow.” _

“Why can’t I just text her?”

_ “Because I need to talk to her in person. _ ”

Peter was quiet for a moment.

“You are aware I am aware the only reason you’d want to do that is so I don’t know what you are telling me.”

It wasn’t a question and Stiles decided to ignore it.

_ “So would you be so kind to drive to Derek’s apartment and hand me over to her.” _

Peter’s face wore an expression between annoyed and intrigued.

“You know you are putting me in a position where my desire to do what you want is directly in conflict with my desire to do everything to be the best informed person around to  stay on top of things.”

Stiles cackled evily.

_ “Will you bring me to Cora or not?” _

“I hate you.”

_ “If you did you’d never tell me this straight forward.” _

“I guess Cora was right, I might actually deserve you.”

Stiles sighs.

_ “I wish you said that because you believe in your own worth and not as an insult to me but you do. You deserve me, and so much more.” _

“You know I can’t handle you being that nice all of a sudden.”

_ “I do. _ ”

“I might have an accident.”

_ “You’d easily survive.” _

“Don’t steal my lines.”

“ _ Don’t give me the opportunity then.” _

“I love you.”

_ “I know.” _

“Are you seriously doing a Han Solo right now? I am not a goddamn space princess.”

Stiles snickers loudly  _ “You would look amazing as a slave in nothing but a fancy loin cloth though. Ready to wake your boyfriend out of a dead-like coma.” _

“I would, but that is so not the point.”

_ “I know. I love you too.” _

“You do?”

_ “Yeah...I really do _ .”

Peter wiped his face with one hand and took a deep breath.

“Why does life have to be so messy.”

Stiles laughed dryly.

_ “Death isn’t all that clean either.” _

 

_______________________________________

  
  


It was the night of the Seed Moon and Stiles had been antsy the last few hours. Since by now the moon was starting to get closer to it’s peak he had been thinking about how to broach the subject. Should he explain, should he keep it ominous? Should he get Peter there under false pretense?

No, no lies.

He should probably keep it vague.

_ “Peter...we need to go and visit my grave?” _

Peter, who had been reading furrowed his brows and closed the book.

“Why?”

_ “It’s something I have to show you. It’s part of my plan to get Dhorson. We need something that’s buried there.” _

Peter sighs deeply.

“I assume you won’t tell me what it is.”

_ “Where would be the fun in that.” _

“Will Cora be there?”

“ _ Yes.”  _

A small smile tucked at Peter’s lips.

“So I’ll find out what you kept from me?”

“If you dig deep enough you’ll be able to reveal my secret tonight.”

“I guess that means I’ll be the one to open your grave then.”

_ “I am sure you will be eager to once we are there.” _

Peter stood up and got a jacket in which he shoved his book.

“All right then, I am curious how you will convince me to rather dig in the dirt instead of reading a book while my niece does the hard work.”

_ “Happy to show you. _ ”

 

__________________________________

 

Peter knew Stiles probably would convince him to help. These days he had a hard time not doing whatever Stiles asked him to, but he was still curious why his mate was so convinced.

Strolling through the rows of older gravestones he felt the light of the full moon make his skin feel too tight and made his wolf want to come out and run all night. But this full moon apparently he had other plans. He would bet the full moon had something to do with why they were here. He was searching his mind for how this moon was called.

Egg Moon? Seed Moon? Something like that. So maybe there had something been growing in Stiles’ grave? Some sort of ingredient for a spell he wanted to cast on Dhorson?

He trusted Stiles to have a good plan, to not try and fuck him over - which really was scary on a level he wasn’t used to at all. But he still didn’t much like the fact Stiles was forcing him to trust - even though he knew he enjoyed keeping secrets himself at least as much as his mate did.

_ “Wow, I can actually see other ghosts now, I guess I wasn’t strong enough last-” _

Peter didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t fully realize Stiles had stopped talking quite abruptly and just kept walking. His mind was trying to piece everything together and he still didn’t think Stiles was a normal kind of ghost so new abilities weren’t really a weird thing in his opinion.

 

He reached Cora and Stiles’ gravestone and for a moment Peter tried to understand what he was seeing.

A small tree, reaching up to Peter’s shoulders had grown in the middle of the little square representing Stiles’ remains. But the tree’s leaves weren’t freshly green, or any shade of green, they were pale, almost white but somewhat translucent and looked very close to skin with blue and slightly purple veins within them.

The trunk and branches of the tree were pale as well and reminded Peter more of keratin than actual wood.

Cora smiled warily as she saw Peter’s curious but suspicious expression.

“It looks like it might be from a horror movie, doesn’t it?”

Peter nodded his head almost involuntarily because he had to agree.

From afar this would probably just look like a pale sort of tree, nothing too strange, nothing worth noticing or even investigating, but coming close enough it was unmistakably unnatural, or rather supernatural.

Stiles kept quiet so Peter looked at his niece.

“You knew about this?”

She shook her head.

“I didn’t know about the...tree.”

“What did you know about then?”

She didn’t say anything either but instead stared at the crystal around Peter’s neck.

“All I know is the tree wasn’t here a week ago. Stiles isn’t saying anything?”

“No…”

Before Peter could demand an answer from Stiles or from Cora though the tree started to change. The leaves lost all the color they had left, got thinner and shriveled. Then the branches and trunk suddenly caught fire and Peter was immediately on a retracting path from the wildly dancing flames. Cora stayed a little bit closer but not by much. 

Worried someone might call the fire department or the police Peter listened for sirens, but nothing was to hear, this corner of the cemetery wasn’t all that visible from the street.

Within the flames Peter could see the tree falingl apart and it did smell like burning hair so it probably really had been keratin. The smell brought back bad memories, but at least there was neither the smell nor the sensation of his own burning flesh.

When all of the tree was gone the flames started to die down and Peter slowly came back to the grave, still confused why he hadn’t heard any comment from Stiles so far.

Looking inside the hole the burned out tree had left behind he started to understand.

Partly revealed from the fire but mostly still stuck in the ground was something that looked like a giant egg.

Cora was beside him and they looked at each other for a moment before they started digging to get the egg out of the ground.

“Is this what I think it is Cora?”

He asked while throwing dirt behind him.

“If you think it’s Stiles’ resurrected body then yes.”

Cora responded while doing the same.

He shook his head while smiling.

“I didn’t think I could be that mad and happy at the same time.”

She huffed and continued.

“Like I said, you two deserve each other.”

“I wish…”

“Shut your mouth and help me dig up your boyfriend.”

 

_________________________________________

 

Stiles had been curiously looking at other ghosts one moment and the next he had been sucked away into unconsciousness.

 

The next thing he knew was heat. Extreme heat, like fire, but strangely not painful. He could see some deep dark glow behind something like vines and tried to move towards that glow and heat above his head but was met with a barrier.

He knew the barrier wasn’t there to hurt him but to keep him safe, although he had no idea how he knew that. He also knew he’d have to break that barrier at some point - soon. And it’d be okay, he’d be okay.

The heat and glow disappeared and left behind a cold spot where they had been. Not long after there were scraping noises and he knew it wasn’t much longer until he’d break the barrier. It got colder and colder around him as the scraping moved from his sides to the bottom of his world and then he felt his it being shaken a bit before standing still again.

He felt himself getting ready to break the barrier of his small world and discover the big beyond. So he stretched his limbs and wings, scraped his claws against the shell, puncturing it.

  
  


__________________________

 

Peter had seen the egg move and felt something move within.

The idea of Stiles’ body being in that thing was strange but he had no problem believing it.

That was up until the point the egg started moving heavier and actually started to crack, revealing a patch of slime covered feathers in something like white, blue and a bit of green.

If the thing in there was Stiles he had changed a lot.

And Peter wasn’t sure what his opinion was until the egg entirely fell apart and the creature in it spread its wings and right away leaped into the night sky.

He had seen and felt it.

The anthropomorphic form of body and face had still been Stiles and Peter’s wolf had immediately recognized his mate.

High above them suddenly the night sky was illuminated with the bright burning blue light of what seemed to be something Peter might have called a were-phoenix if he had been that eloquent in that moment.

Stiles came flying down at them, quenching the flames of his wings and head before gently landing with the claws of his feet easily holding onto his own gravestone.

 

He was impressive and terrifying. Peter would have been prepared for many things but not for this. His mate, back from the dead, in front of him like a flaming apocalyptic angel with wings  and hair moving like flames, the colors of hot burning fire.

As Peter stared so did Stiles.

And the longer Stiles stared the more Peter realized it was out of curiosity.

Stiles found Peter curious, as Peter found Stiles curious.

Which meant Peter wasn’t the only one seeing something he wasn’t familiar with.

If Peter hadn’t just a few months ago gone through the pain of losing Stiles seemingly forever he would have thought the grief he felt right now would be the worst feeling he could have.

But cruelty knew how to play him best because now he had this small hope Stiles might learn to love him again even though he didn’t remember right now. A part of him had preferred it to not have something that foolish to hang on to.

 

__________________________

  
  


This new world felt amazing!

It was huge and there were lights, one big light in particular. He saw it and just had to see how big it really was. Only no matter how far up towards it he flew it just didn’t get bigger. And the higher he flew the harder it got to breath. 

So there was another barrier there, but that was okay, this was already so much more space than he had known before. Dropping back into a height at which breathing was easier he felt the desire to see how much air he could breathe with this much space.

So he did, he breathed in and in and suddenly he himself was light and it felt beautiful and warm and right. He circled his place of birth a few times while exploring an invisible pull that wanted him to get back down there.

Eventually he decided to do so and let himself drop further, breathing out and turning off his fire.

Down there were two lifeforms. He was excited because he had never met other lifeforms before. One of them was more interesting than the other though, although both of them stared at him.

The more interesting one was what had pulled him down. This lifeform felt like...like his old world, but better, it felt like warmth and safety and somehow familiar.

Stiles stepped down to the ground and got as close to the lifeform as possible.

It smelled perfect and he felt the urge to bury his face in it’s neck.

So he did.

Only he had barely touched the lifeform’s skin before he also touched something else, some sort of stone.

It reacted with his mind and he stumbled back a few steps before his vision blurred and his mind went blank.

 

\---

 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been out but when Stiles came to he remembered everything. Horrified by the memory of Peter’s sad and resigned expression he tried to stand up and stumbled over his own body because he had claws and there were two additional limbs he wasn’t used to and somehow this had all felt a lot more natural when he hadn’t remembered a thing.

But he wouldn’t trade his memories for a god damn moment!

His attempt to move apparently hadn’t gone unnoticed because Peter and Cora were by his side only moments later, helping him to get back onto the couch without breaking himself or something in reach of his wings.

“Peter!” he croaked, his vocal cord getting used for the very first time.

“You remember my name?”

God that expression of sheer disbelief was heartbreaking, Stiles wished he hadn’t done this, wished he had prepared Peter better, keeping the secret had been a mistake, a selfish mistake.

He hid his face in his hands and tried to formulate coherent words.

“I am so sorry.”

Peter was sitting in front of him on the floor, gently rubbing Stiles’ upper arm.

“What for?”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you, I am so sorry I kept this from you, I...I am s...sorry I didn’t remember you! I should have...I should have told you…”

He was crying and he didn’t even care.

Remembering that expression, knowing how he himself would have felt, knowing Peter had to actually go through the idea of losing him a second time, this time the body present but the personality, the memories absent…

“You remember?” was all he could hear Peter whisper, surprised, hardly daring to believe.

“Yes, I remember, I think the crystal jogged my memory. I am so sorry I kept this from you, it was wrong to do that. I was an idiot to-”

“Sh...sh sh sh.” Peter placed one finger on Stiles’ lips.

“Cora told me why you did it. And I understand. You are right, it wasn’t nice and I am still a little bit pissed you did that, but I am glad you are here and I accept your apology. Okay?”

Two hands, both Peter’s gently wrapped around his fingers and forced him to lower them from his face.

Then one of those hands forced him to look Peter in the eyes.

They were beautiful, smart and piercing as ever and they made Stiles’ heart skip a beat. A sensation he absolutely wasn’t used to anymore.

Having a heart.

“Okay?”

Peter asked so gently, so patiently.

Stiles nodded and wiped away his tears.

“Okay. But...but please yell at me for doing that at some point. If you don’t I’ll probably feel like it’s an unresolved issue.”

There was some kind of sadness that bled into Peter’s eyes but he nodded.

“Okay, we’ll have a proper fight about this once we dealt with Dhorson. I seem to remember you had a plan.”

Right, he did. It felt almost negligible in the wake of suddenly being part of the world again and being able to directly communicate and physically interact and everything. But he had everything necessary set in motion so going through with the plan was really the easiest part.

 

\---

 

Three days later they were in Dhorson’s office, they had passed all the security measure, which had really been the most difficult part of their plan.

But  at least now Stiles was registered as a living agent again. 

One with a few more clearances than he had had before but nobody needed to know that.

It had taken him a day to get the rudimentary hang on his new physical form but now he looked entirely human again. Peter and Cora had tagged along as new trainers Stiles wanted his boss to sanction for their top secret program.

Once in the office Stiles had worked fast and efficiently to set his magical trap, which he had put the second most effort into and then sat down at Dhorson’s desk, making a selfie and sending it to the man he was waiting for.

 

It only took Dhorson half an hour to burst through the door - alone, as Stiles had predicted - right into the spell’s main circle.

“Stilinski!” was all his head, red with fury was able to bark out.

“Dhorson” Stiles responded politely and with a slight smirk.

“What is this?”

The man tried to move but couldn’t beyond twitching his muscles and moving his head and fingers.

Stiles put his feet onto the table and motioned for Cora to close the door.

“Come on Dhorson, you aren’t that dumb. You were smart enough to get me killed. It’s a trap.”

Since he now knew Stiles was aware of what he had done Dhorson stopped fidgeting and just stared at Stiles.

“Obviously I didn’t try hard enough. How did you do it? I thought once a body is burned to ashes it can’t be resurrected.”

Stiles shrugged and inspected his fingernails.

“No, not resurrected, but reborn. This body is three days old.”

Peter smiled charmingly “It suits you very well my love.”

Stiles smiled delighted “Thanks, I grew it myself.”

Cora rolled her eyes.

“Can we please take care of this dweeb and head back home? I got a date.”

Stiles chuckled.

“Sure thing my sweet niece.”

She stuck out her tongue but Stiles got back to talking to his theoretical superior.

“This trap is designed to keep you bound to my will. And not my spoken will. It just plainly keeps you from doing things I wouldn’t want you to do. Right now that is moving. This also means, if I didn’t want you to live you’d already be dead. Now, the really beautiful thing here is, this little extra circle of additional symbols. If I activate that one it burns all the inner symbols on the inside of your skull. That means, all I need is a snap of my fingers to activate that circle and you’ll be my bitch until the rest of your days.”

He saw shock and fear in the man’s expression and was a little bit surprised at how little he cared for it.

“See, I assume you’d like to beg for my mercy if I am reading your expression right, but I really don’t wanna hear it because it’s just gonna be some boring lie about how you regret it and bla bla bla. What I would like to know is why you went to such length to have me killed.”

Dhorson seemed to try and fight the command but it didn’t take long until he was talking.

“Some hunter groups paid me a lot of money to make sure the division would become nothing more than another group of hunters chasing supernatural beings.”

Stiles had suspected something as simple as that but it was still sad.

“I somewhat hoped your answer might somehow redeem you because then I might not have been wrong to trust you but it seems I truly have.

I guess there is something to learn from this.”

He stood up and snapped his fingers.

The three of them left the room as Dhorson screamed in agony while the spell of lifelong obedience and servitude was burned into the man’s skull.

Peter planted a kiss against Stiles’ temple and mumbled “I love you.”

Stiles intertwined their fingers and leaned his head against Peter’s shoulder as they entered the elevator.

“I know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, since the 27th is almost over here and I wanted to get this posted in time this is unbeta'd and I apologize. The story got extremely out of hand - as usual - and I did my best to contain it and keep it coherent. Snazzysterek (SnazzyJazzyH) I hope you enjoyed this and wish you Merry Belated Christmas!  
> To everyone else reading this, thank you so so much, I hope you enjoyed it as well <3333  
> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everybody!


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